"I  TELL  YOU  WHAT  LET'S  BE  NOW,"  JACKIE  SAID.    "LET'S  BE  FORTY-NINERS !" 


LITTLE 
Miss  FALES 


BY 

EMILIE  BENSON  KNIPE 

AND 

ALDEN  ARTHUR   KNIPE 


FRONTISPIECE    BY 
FRANCES  ROGERS 


HARPER  6-  BROTHERS  PUBLISHERS 
NEW  YORK   AND  LONDON 


Copyright,  1910,  by  HARPER  &  BROTHERS 
All  rights  reserved 


Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 

c-z 


CONTENTS 

•HAP.  PAWS 

I.  IN    RlTTENHOUSE    SQUARE I 

II.  THE  BALLOON- BOY  AGAIN 10 

III.  ON  OUR  WAY  HOME 18 

IV.  I  DELIVER  A  LETTER 25 

V.  FOUR  DEAR  OLD  LADIES 30 

VI.  A  ROYAL  SIGNET 35 

VII.  THE  SECRET  ROOM 42 

VIII.  I  FIND  MYSELF 49 

IX.  COUSIN  MARIA 58 

X.  VISITORS 67 

XI.  I  SEE  FALES 71 

XII.  A  JOY  AND  A  SORROW 82 

XIII.  Two  WILLS  AND  A  LAWYER 86 

XIV.  THE  FALES  MOTTO 92 

XV.  I  MAKE  MY  DECISION •    .  101 

XVI.  CUTTING  DOWN  EXPENSES 107 

XVII.  THE  GREAT-AUNTS  HELP 113 

XVIII.  JACKIE  GETS  EVEN 120 

XIX.  MRS.  BRADY  IN  TEARS 126 

XX.  OH,  FOR  A  GOLD-MINE! 131 

XXI.  JACKIE  AND  I  Go  PROSPECTING     ...  137 

XXII.  BETTER  THAN  A  GOLD-MINE     ....  145 


2136584 


CONTENTS 

CHAP.  PAGE 

XXIII.  SECRETS 153 

XXIV.  WE  CALL  ON  A  PRESIDENT     ....  157 

XXV.  A  BARGAIN 165 

XXVI.  LUNCHEON  FOR  THREE 171 

XXVII.  I  REJOICE  Too  SOON 178 

XXVIII.  IN  THE  SECRET  ROOM 183 

XXIX.  MR.  SLOAN'S  QUEER  CLIENT  .     .     .     .  188 

XXX.  I  GIVE  UP  HOPE 194 

XXXI.  MR.CRESSON  CAN  BE  CRUSTY    ...  205 

XXXII.  HURRY!    HURRY!    HURRY!     ....  213 

XXXIII.  I  KEEP  MY  OWN  .  218 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

"I  TELL  You  WHAT  LET'S  BE  Now," 
JACKIE  SAID.  "LET'S  BE  FORTY-NINERS!"  Frontispiece 

"WHAT  Do  You  THINK  OF  THAT  BOY, 
JOHN  FALES?"  GREAT-GRANDFATHER 
ASKED  ME,  SUDDENLY Facing  p.  60 

"Now  LOOK,"  MR.  SEYMORE  CONTINUED. 
"THE  RAILROAD  WILL  Go  ALONG  THERE 
FOR  ABOUT  A  MILE" 148 

"HERE  I  AM,  Miss  JOHN.  WHAT'S  THE 
MATTER?"  "  184 


LITTLE    MISS     FALES 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 


IN    RITTENHOUSE    SQUARE 

H,  why — why  couldn't  I  have  been  born  a 
boy!" 

How  well  I  recollect  saying  it,  and  even  though 
I  was  a  great  big  girl  of  thirteen  at  the  time,  I 
put  my  head  on  mother's  shoulder  and  just  cried 
and  cried,  while  she  tried  to  comfort  me.  But 
mother  wasn't  very  happy  herself  that  day,  for 
we  were  saying  " Good-bye"  to  the  old  Fales 
estate  that  had  been  in  our  family  since  before 
the  Revolution,  and  we  loved  it  so  that  it  nearly 
broke  our  hearts  to  think  that  we  must  give  it 
up  to  people  who  hadn't  any  right  to  it. 

And  all  because  I  had  been  born  a  girl  instead 
of  a  boy !  That  was  the  worst  part  of  it;  for  some- 
how I  felt  that  it  was  all  my  fault,  though  of 
course  it  wasn't. 

Then,  too,  I  knew  how  great-grandfather 
would  have  felt  about  it,  and  thought  of  the  hap- 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

py  day  we  had  spent  together  such  a  little  while 
before;  so  I  couldn't  help  crying,  and  mother 
had  tears  in  her  eyes,  too. 

Still,  you  mustn't  think  I  was  a  cry-baby.  As 
I  look  back  over  those  days,  I  know  I  was  a  hap- 
py child  in  spite  of  everything,  and  didn't  cry 
very  often.  But  on  that  particular  morning  our 
troubles  were  only  beginning,  as  you  will  see 
when  you  read  this  little  history  of  how  mother 
and  I  struggled  to  save  Fales. 

The  first  thing  I  really  remember  of  myself  was 
going  to  Rittenhouse  Square  to  play.  Mother 
and  I  had  just  come  from  the  South,  where  we 
had  been  living  since  I  was  a  wee  baby,  and  were 
on  our  way  to  Europe,  only  we  stopped  for  a 
while  in  Philadelphia  till  the  house  on  Locust 
Street  was  rented.  Perhaps  it  is  because  mother 
and  I  have  talked  it  over  so  many  times  since 
that  I  recollect  it  quite  clearly. 

I  was  with  my  nurse,  and  was  the  proud  pos- 
sessor of  ten  cents  that  I  had  earned  by  learning 
my  A,  B,  C's.  Usually  I  had  only  a  penny  to  buy 
an  apple  or  a  pretzel,  but  I  had  wanted  a  balloon 
for  a  long  time,  and  now,  at  last,  I  was  to  have  it. 

While  we  were  waiting  for  the  balloon-man  to 
come  I  played  with  a  little  boy  who  had  long 
golden  curls,  and  wore  a  beautiful  coat  of  white 
velvet  and  lace.  He  must  have  looked  rather 
girlish,  for  the  other  boys  had  their  hair  bobbed 


IN    RITTENHOUSE    SQUARE 

off;  but  I  admired  him  very  much,  because  I  am 
a  regular  black  Fales  with  straight  hair  and  gray 
eyes. 

Well,  when  he  heard  that  I  was  to  buy  a  balloon, 
nothing  would  do  but  he  must  have  one  too,  al- 
though his  nurse  said: 

"You  know,  Jackie,  you  always  let  go  of  them, 
and  then  you  cry  and  blame  every  one  but  your- 
self." 

But  he  teased  and,  finally,  she  gave  him  ten 
cents,  and  we  ran  off  together  to  get  the  balloons. 
We  bought  two  beauties — big  fat  fellows.  (I  won- 
der why  they  don't  make  balloons  as  big  now  ?) 
Then  we  started  together  for  our  nurses,  who 
were  keeping  a  bench  for  us,  and — will  you 
believe  me  ?  —  before  we  got  back  I  heard  an 
awful  roar  beside  me,  and  there  was  that 
boy's  balloon  sailing  off  in  the  direction  of  the 
public  buildings!  He  had  let  go  of  the  string 
before  he  had  had  it  two  minutes. 

I  never  saw  a  boy  act  like  that!  He  fairly 
yelled  and  danced  with  rage,  and  said  I  had  taken 
the  best  balloon,  though  of  course  they  were  ex- 
actly alike. 

In  a  minute  there  was  quite  a  crowd  of  nurses 
and  children  about  us,  but  I  simply  stood  and 
stared  at  him  in  open-eyed  amazement.  I  didn't 
know  there  could  be  such  a  naughty  child  in  all 
the  world. 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

An  old  gentleman  who  had  been  sitting  on 
one  of  the  benches  reading  a  paper,  jumped  up 
and  tried  to  pacify  him,  but  although  the  boy 
seemed  to  know  who  he  was,  he  would  not  be 
quieted.  His  nurse  came  up,  only  to  be  told,  with 
a  scream,  that  it  was  her  fault.  I  never  saw  such 
a  performance,  and  at  last  I  began  to  be  ashamed 
for  one  who  seemingly  didn't  know  what  shame 
was. 

Finally  I  couldn't  stand  it  any  more,  so,  turn- 
ing to  the  old  gentleman,  I  said,  holding  out  my 
balloon : 

"Here,  I'll  give  him  mine.  Only  I'd  'vise  you 
tie  it  to  him,  else  he'll  let  it  go,  too." 

"Now  that's  good  of  you!"  said  the  old  gentle- 
man, who  was  apparently  as  much  relieved  as  I 
was  to  find  that  the  boy  stopped  yelling  at  once. 
He  took  my  balloon  and  tied  it  to  a  large  carved 
pearl  button,  and  the  boy  rushed  off  as  proud  as 
a  peacock,  but  without  a  word  of  thanks. 

Then  the  old  gentleman  and  I  looked  at  each 
other.  I  don't  know  how  he  felt,  but  I  was  cer- 
tainly embarrassed,  as  if  in  some  way  I  was  re- 
sponsible for  that  boy's  actions. 

He  was  a  handsome  old  gentleman,  tall  and 
square-shouldered,  though  any  one  could  see  that 
he  was  quite  old.  He  had  a  big  nose  and  a  gray 
mustache,  and  his  eyes  were  gray,  too.  He  wore 
a  high  hat  and  a  long  coat,  and  carried  a  gold- 
4 


IN    RITTENHOUSE    SQUARE 

headed  cane,  and  altogether  I  thought  I  would 
like  him  very  much.  He  looked  at  me  for  a  mo- 
ment or  two,  and  then  said,  gravely,  as  if  he  were 
addressing  a  grown-up  person  instead  of  only  a 
little  girl: 

"I  hope  you  will  accept  my  thanks  for  your 
kindness  just  now.  You  were  very  good  to  give 
him  your  balloon,  though  he  doesn't  seem  to  ap- 
preciate it.  But  I  suppose  you'll  have  another 
to-morrow  ?" 

"No,"  I  said,  shaking  my  head.  "No,  I'm 
sure  I  won't.  They're  much  too  'spensive." 

The  old  gentleman  made  a  motion  as  if  to  put 
his  hand  into  his  pocket. 

"It  has  been  so  long  since  I  bought  a  bal- 
loon that  I  forget  how  much  they  cost,"  he 
said. 

"Ten  whole  cents,"  I  told  him,  "and  that  is 
quite  a  lot,  you  know.  You  see,  I  never  had  a 
balloon  before;  but  I  earned  this  learning  my 
alflabet,  which  is  quite  hard  at  first — don't  you 
think  so?" 

"Yes,  it  certainly  is,"  he  said,  looking  down  at 
me  with  a  twinkle  in  his  eye. 

"But  I  couldn't  bear  to  see  a  child  act  like  that, 
could  you?''  I  went  on.  "He'd  be  so  'shamed 
when  he  grew  up.  Besides,  I've  had  the  fun  of 
earning  it,  anyhow." 

The  old  gentleman  nodded  his  head  solemnly 
5 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

to  show  that  he  agreed  with  me,  and  took  his  hand 
out  of  his  pocket. 

"Suppose  we  go  over  here  and  sit  down,"  he 
suggested,  pointing  to  a  bench,  and  he  told  my 
nurse,  Marie,  to  leave  me  for  a  while. 

"Would  you  object  to  telling  me  how  old  you 
are  ?"  he  asked,  when  we  were  comfortable. 

"'Most  six,  but  I  don't  think  I  could  have  acted 
like  that  since  I  was  a  weeny  baby,"  I  answered, 
for  I  was  still  thinking  of  that  boy. 

"  I'm  quite  sure  of  it,"  he  said,  positively.  "  But, 
you  see,  he's  spoiled.  He's  an  only  child,  you 
know." 

"Well,  that's  hard  on  his  mother,"  I  said, 
wisely.  "I  know,  'cause  I'm  an  only  child  my- 
self, and  mother  had  to  ask  me  to  help  her  not 
to  spoil  me." 

"Bless  me!"  he  said,  looking  at  me  over  the  top 
of  his  eye-glasses.  "And  you  say  you're  only 
five  ?  I  believe  you  are  fifty." 

"No,  'most  six,"  I  replied,  conscientiously,  "and 
really  and  truly  I'm  not  fifty." 

He  didn't  laugh,  but  I  could  see  his  face  wrinkle 
a  little  more. 

"I  think  I  must  take  your  word  for  it,"  he  re- 
turned, gravely;  "still,  I  have  known  ladies  who 
would  deduct  a  few  years  from  their  ages.  By-the- 
way,  may  I  ask  your  name  ?" 

"John  Fales,"  I  replied. 
6 


IN    RITTENHOUSE    SQUARE 

"What!"  he  exclaimed,  explosively.  "What 
did  you  say?"  And  he  turned  toward  me  with 
quite  a  surprised  look  on  his  face. 

"John  Fales,"  I  repeated.  "And  I  am  very 
proud  of  it,  though  people  who  don't  understand 
think  it's  queer." 

"  But  you  are  a  girl  ?"  he  objected. 

"But  I  ought  to  have  been  a  boy,  you  know," 
I  went  on.  "Everybody  is  surprised." 

"Yes,"  he  said,  shaking  his  head  slowly,  "yes, 
you  certainly  ought  to  have  been  a  boy.  You 
would  have  made  a  fine  one." 

"Well,  I've  talked  with  mother  about  it,  and 
she  'grees  it's  a  pity,"  I  explained,  "but  she  says 
it  can't  be  helped  now.  Then,  you  know,  mother's 
fond  of  girls,  so  she's  gotten  over  caring  very 
much.  Besides,  she  tells  me  that  I  can  be  just 
as  hon'rable  and  just  as  brave  and  just  as  gen- 
'rous  as  a  boy,  and  if  I  always  remember  that  there 
never  was  a  Fales  who  wasn't  a  fine  man,  she 
doesn't  believe  I'll  hurt  the  name  by  wear- 
ing it." 

"  Bless  me !"  said  the  old  gentleman,  straighten- 
ing up  and  looking  hard  at  me.  "Bless  me,  I 
won't  say  your  mother  isn't  right.  It's — it's  more 
than  a  pity  you  weren't  a  boy!" 

So  I  talked  to  the  old  gentleman  for  quite  a  long 
time,  and  he  was  very  nice  and  polite,  and  I  liked 
him.  At  last  he  looked  at  his  watch  and  turned 
*  7 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

around,  calling  to  a  man  in  livery  who  was  stand- 
ing near. 

"Is  the  carriage  ready,  James?  Been  waiting 
half  an  hour,  you  say?  Bless  me,  I'll  be  late 
for  that  directors'  meeting!"  Then  he  got  up 
from  the  bench,  and  I  stood  up  beside  him. 

"Good-bye,  John  Fales,"  he  said,  holding  out 
his  hand  to  me — "good-bye,  and  thank  you  again 
for  your  kindness  to  a  very  ungrateful  little  boy. 
I  can't  tell  you  how  much  pleasure  it  has  given 
me  to  meet  you,  and — and,  you've  set  me  think- 
ing, John  Fales,  but  you  can't  know  how  much 
you  have  mixed  things  up  by  being  a  girl!" 

Of  course  I  told  mother  all  about  it,  and  she 
seemed  very  much  interested,  especially  in  the  old 
gentleman  who  had  been  so  polite  to  me. 

"And  you  know,  mother,"  I  ended,  "he  was 
so  surprised  when  I  told  him  my  name  was  John 
Fales !  Why  didn't  I  have  a  name  like  other  girls  ?" 

Mother  took  me  in  her  arms  and  held  me  close 
to  her. 

"I  don't  know  whether  you'll  understand, 
dearie,"  she  began.  "But  just  before  you  were 
born  your  father  was  killed  in  a  railroad  accident, 
and  I — well,  I  was  broken-hearted,  because  then  I 
didn't  have  even  you  to  comfort  me.  I  was  very, 
very  ill  for  weeks,  and  Great-grandfather  Fales 
and  the  great-aunts  came  to  see  me  every  day, 
and  I  know  they  were  very  fond  of  me. 
3 


IN    RITTENHOUSE    SQUARE 

"Now,  when  father  died  there  was  no  one  to 
inherit  the  Fales  estate,  and  great-grandfather 
used  to  talk  to  me  about  it  all  the  time,  because 
he  was  very  much  worried.  He  kept  telling  me, 
over  and  over  again,  that  the  first  child  to  be  called 
'John  Fales'  should  be  his  heir,  and  I  grew  to 
think  that  a  baby  of  that  name  would  have  every- 
thing on  earth  to  make  it  happy. 

"Well,  one  morning  you  came,  dearie,  but  I 
was  so  sick  and  worried  that  I  didn't  really  know 
very  much  about  what  was  going  on,  though  all 
the  time  I  was  sure  you  must  be  a  boy,  because  it 
was  so  important  that  you  should  be.  Then — on 
account  of  the  fever,  I  guess — I  took  it  into  my  head 
that  you  were  going  to  die,  so  I  made  them  send  for 
Doctor  Maclvor  right  away  to  baptize  you.  The 
nurses  and  the  doctor  were  afraid  not  to  let  me  have 
my  own  way,  so  Doctor  Maclvor  came,  and  I  told 
him  your  name  should  be  'John' — still  thinking 
you  were  a  boy,  you  know. 

"It  was  all  over  in  a  jiffy;  and,  because  I  was  so 
sick,  no  one  told  me  you  were  a  girl  till  weeks 
afterward,  for  fear  of  exciting  me.  And  that's 
how  you  came  to  be  called  by  a  boy's  name." 


II 

THE   BALLOON-BOY  AGAIN 

OF  course  it  wasn't  until  I  was  much  older  that 
I  learned  why  it  was  we  were  so  very  poor 
when  the  rest  of  the  family  had  more  money  than 
they  knew  what  to  do  with.  It  seems  that  father 
had  lost  the  inheritance  that  had  come  from  his 
mother  and  father  in  some  unfortunate  invest- 
ments; but,  so  long  as  he  was  alive,  that  didn't 
make  any  real  difference  because  he  was  the  only 
heir  to  the  great,  immense  fortune  that  belonged 
to  Great-grandfather  Fales.  However,  when  he 
died,  all  that  mother  had  was  the  house  on  Locust 
Street  and  a  very  small  sum  of  money.  At  first 
great-grandfather  didn't  know  this  and  mother 
wouldn't  tell  him,  because  she  thought  he  might 
blame  father  for  speculating — and  for  other 
reasons,  too,  which  I  shall  tell  later.  So,  really, 
all  this  time  the  family  thought  we  were  quite 
comfortable,  whereas  mother  had  to  economize 
awfully  to  make  both  ends  meet. 

It  was  on  this  account  that,  very  shortly  after 
my  meeting  the  old  gentleman   in   Rittenhouse 
10 


THE    BALLOON-BOY    AGAIN 

Square,  mother  and  I  went  to  Europe  and  stayed 
for  three  years. 

We  lived  quietly,  saving  as  much  money  as  possi- 
ble, because  mother  was  determined  that  when  I 
was  old  enough  I  should  come  back  to  America  for 
my  serious  education,  and  that  would  be  expensive. 
We  stayed  for  a  while  in  France,  then  for  a  time 
in  Germany,  and  also  in  Italy,  so  that  I  might 
learn  the  languages,  which  I  did,  though  not  much 
else,  as  I  found  out  later.  But  nothing  happened 
that  had  anything  to  do  with  this  story  until  just 
before  I  came  home,  so  I  am  going  to  skip  all  the 
time  in  between. 

We  sailed  from  Naples  to  Gibraltar,  and  from 
there  we  took  the  boat  to  Tangier,  which,  you  know, 
is  on  the  northwest  coast  of  Africa. 

Now  it  was  I  who  coaxed  mother  into  going 
there  because  the  very  name  of  Africa  had  always 
fascinated  me,  and  when  I  heard  that  we  were  to 
return  by  the  southern  route  because  it  was  so 
much  cheaper,  I  saw  my  opportunity  and  begged 
as  hard  as  I  knew  how.  I  promised  I  would 
work  conscientiously  at  my  lessons  when  we  got  to 
America,  and  that  the  African  trip  should  be  my 
reward,  even  if  I  did  have  it  beforehand.  At  last 
mother  consented,  and  we  went. 

I  do  wish  there  was  time  to  talk  about  Tangier 
and  the  Moors,  and  all  the  funny  experiences  we 
had  there,  mother  and  I.  It  was  quite  like  living 
ii 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

in  the  Bible,  for  there  were  camel  caravans  coming 
in  from  the  desert,  and  old  men  who  looked  like 
prophets  dressed  in  goatskins  and  bearing  long 
staves.  There  were  water-carriers,  and  beggars, 
and  donkeys,  and  women  with  their  faces  veiled, 
and  such  a  confusion  of  people  crying  and  calling 
to  one  another  in  the  narrow,  twisty  little  streets 
that  at  first  a  stranger  was  quite  bewildered;  but 
in  a  little  while  we  got  used  to  it,  and  a  man  with 
a  donkey-train  could  shout  "Arre!"  till  he  was 
hoarse  without  our  budging.  Donkeys  don't  eat 
people,  after  all,  and  they  have  nice  soft  little  noses. 

Yes,  indeed,  Tangier  is  a  fine  place,  and  we 
stayed  nearly  a  month,  and  liked  it  better  than  all 
Europe  put  together.  There  are  lots  and  lots  of 
things  I  could  tell,  but  I  will  have  to  save  that  for 
another  time,  because  this  is  a  history  of  Fales, 
and  I  have  only  mentioned  Tangier  on  account 
of  something  that  occurred  there. 

It  all  happened  in  the  Socca,  which  is  the  market- 
place, you  know.  Mother  was  a  little  tired  of  the 
smells  and  the  heat  and  the  crowds  of  people, 
so  she  said  she  would  go  back  to  the  terrace  of  the 
hotel  which  overlooked  the  Socca,  and  would  keep 
an  eye  on  me  from  there.  Also  Yusef,  the  guide 
who  was  always  hovering  round,  could  stay  near 
and  look  after  me. 

I  was  particularly  interested  in  a  snake-charmer, 
and  he  had  just  finished  his  performance  when  I 
12 


THE    BALLOON-BOY    AGAIN 

was  attracted  by  an  unusual  shouting  and  yelling 
on  the  other  side  of  the  market-place.  In  a  few 
minutes  a  jostling,  laughing  troop  of  boys  came 
near  me,  and  out  of  the  middle  of  the  crowd  there 
arose  a  howl  that  I  should  have  thought  would 
have  made  the  Moors  green  with  envy.  Honestly, 
I  am  sure  I  knew  who  was  in  trouble  before  I  saw 
him,  so  well  did  I  remember  that  roar  of  his.  I 
immediately  had  a  picture  in  my  mind  of  a  red 
balloon  floating  off  in  the  sky  toward  the  public 
buildings  in  Philadelphia  years  before,  but  when 
at  last  I  caught  a  glimpse  of  him  it  was  a  minute 
or  two  before  I  was  quite  positive.  You  see,  I 
was  looking  for  a  youngster  of  five  with  long 
golden  curls,  in  velvet  and  lace.  What  I  saw  was 
a  tall  boy  dressed  in  white  linen,  with  wavy  hair 
that  was  rather  longer  than  is  customary;  but  from 
the  way  he  was  scolding  and  blaming  other  people 
for  his  troubles,  exactly  as  he  had  done  in  Ritten- 
house  Square,  I  knew  I  could  not  be  mistaken. 

And  he  was  having  a  hard  time  of  it.  His 
hands,  held  together  in  front  of  him,  were  piled 
high  with  purple  figs,  and  every  now  and  then  one 
of  the  many  ragamuffins  would  pretend  to  stumble 
and  bump  into  him.  Then  down  would  fall  two 
or  three  of  the  figs,  and  there  would  be  a  wild 
scramble  for  them  while  he  simply  roared.  They 
really  didn't  mean  to  harm  him;  but  he  thought 
they  did,  and  was  almost  scared  to  death. 
13 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

Of  course  I  went  right  up  to  him,  and  Yusef, 
seeing  that  I  knew  who  he  was,  scattered  the  boys 
with  a  few  blows  of  his  staff. 

"How  do  you  do,  Jackie?"  I  said,  trying  hard 
not  to  let  him  see  I  was  laughing.  "What's  the 
matter  now  ?" 

Feeling  that  he  was  quite  safe  again,  he  began 
to  be  very  brave. 

"They  were  stealing  my  figs  that  I  bought  with 
my  own  money,"  he  answered,  angrily.  "  It  was 
the  old  woman's  fault  for  not  putting  them  in  a 
bag.  I  told  her  to,  but  she  just  shook  her  head." 

I  couldn't  help  laughing  at  the  thought  of  paper 
bags  in  the  Socca. 

"What  are  you  laughing  at?"  he  demanded. 

"Oh,  nothing,"  I  said,  trying  to  be  polite,  and 
asked  what  he  was  doing  and  who  was  with  him. 

"No  one's  with  me,"  he  answered,  crossly.  "I 
can  take  care  of  myself,  thank  you!  I'm  not  a 
girl!  Anyhow,  I'm  going  back  to  the  hotel  to  tell 
mamma  that  I  don't  like  Tangier,  and  that  I  in- 
tend to  go  away  at  once." 

"What  hotel  are  you  staying  at?"  I  asked, 
and — would  you  believe  it  ? — he  didn't  know. 

"Well,"  he  said,  rather  grandly,  "it  won't  be 
any  trouble  to  find  it.  It's  the  first  one  in  Bae- 
deker. We  always  stop  at  the  best." 

"And  where  will  you    find    a    Baedeker?"    I 
asked.     This  sobered  him  a  little. 
14 


THE    BALLOON-BOY    AGAIN 

"Oh,  that  will  be  easy,"  he  said,  confidently. 

"Yes,  and  the  minute  you  leave  Yusef  and  me 
the  boys  will  come  back  again,"  I  pointed  out. 

This  worried  him,  and  after  a  good  look  at 
the  crowd  of  Moors  around  us,  he  agreed  that 
it  would  be  better  to  see  what  mother  thought 
about  it. 

As  we  walked  up  the  hill  he  turned  and  said, 
rather  rudely:  "What's  your  name,  anyway,  and 
how  did  you  know  mine  was  Jackie  ?" 

He  was  so  disagreeable  that  I  couldn't  help 
telling  him  just  what  was  in  my  mind. 

"I  played  with  you  once  in  Rittenhouse  Square," 
I  began,  "and  you  were  so  naughty  and  horrid 
that  I've  never  forgotten  you.  You  were  such  a 
cry-baby  that  I  had  to  give  you  my  balloon  to  keep 
you  quiet." 

"Are  you  the  balloon-girl  ?"  Jackie  asked,  with 
much  interest.  "Why,  I  remember  you  now! 
It  was  the  only  balloon  I  ever  got  home  with  me. 
And,  say,  it  bumped  around  the  nursery  ceiling 
and  got  smaller  and  smaller  till  it  all  squizzled  up 
into  a  little  squashy  ball." 

He  was  so  pleasant  that  you  wouldn't  have 
thought  we  had  been  quarrelling  a  minute  before. 

"Well,  I  should  have  liked  to  see  it  bumping 
around  my  nursery  ceiling;  but  the  least  you  can 
do  is  to  say  'Thank  you,'  even  if  it  is  a  little  late 
in  the  day  to  do  it,"  I  suggested. 
15 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

To  my  great  surprise,  he  thanked  me  very  nicely, 
and  offered  me  some  figs;  and  then  we  talked  about 
Tangier  till  we  reached  our  hotel,  where  we  found 
mother  waiting  for  us. 

At  first  mother  was  going  to  keep  Jackie  to 
luncheon;  but  when  he  acknowledged  that  he  had 
left  his  hotel  without  telling  any  one,  she  thought 
he  had  better  start  off  at  once  with  Yusef.  Jackie 
protested,  but  mother  was  quite  firm. 

"Never  mind,"  he  whispered  to  me.  "I'll 
come  back  soon  and  stay  as  long  as  I  please." 

He  didn't  like  the  way  mother  insisted  upon  his 
doing  as  she  said,  and  it  sounded  to  me  as  if 
he  expected  I  would  take  sides  against  her,  and 
I  wouldn't  stand  that. 

"  If  you  come  to  see  me  you  can  make  up  your 
mind  to  do  exactly  as  mother  tells  you.  Or  you 
needn't  come!"  I  added. 

"Huh!"  said  he.  "Who  wants  to  play  with  an 
old  girl,  anyway  ?"  And  then  we  were  just  ready 
for  another  quarrel  when  mother  came  up  with 
Yusef. 

I  was  surprised  to  see  how  nicely  Jackie  said 
"Good-bye"  to  her,  and  he  ended  by  remarking: 
"I  know  mamma  will  want  to  thank  you  for  your 
kindness  to  me.  You  see,  I'm  an  only  child  and 
extra  precious." 

Mother  laughed  a  little  as  she  said:  "Tell  her 
not  to  feel  under  any  obligation.  I've  an  only 
16 


THE    BALLOON-BOY    AGAIN 

chick  of  my  own,  and  I'm  sure  she  would  have 
done  as  much  for  me." 

"But  yours  is  only  a  girl,"  said  Jackie,  disdain- 
fully, with  a  glance  at  me.  "Boys  are  so  much 
more  important." 

Mother  laughed  again.  "Well,  you  know,  as 
the  mother  of  a  girl,  you  can  hardly  expect  me  to 
agree  with  you." 

"But  it's  quite  true,"  Jackie  went  on,  earnestly, 
showing  that  he  really  believed  what  he  said. 
"Why,  I  have  a  girl  cousin  who  would  have  had 
millions  and  millions  of  dollars  if  she'd  only  been  a 
boy.  No  one  would  give  all  that  to  a  girl.  She 
wouldn't  know  how  to  take  care  of  it." 

"What  is  your  name?"  asked  mother,  quickly, 
with  a  little  catch  in  her  breath. 

"I  am  Jackie  Fales,  of  Philadelphia,"  he  an- 
swered, taking  off  his  hat  and  making  a  bow.  Then, 
without  another  word,  he  went  away  with  Yusef. 

I  was  so  surprised  that  I  just  stood  there  and 
watched  them  go  down  the  hill  across  the  Socca, 
till  finally  they  disappeared  in  the  crowd;  and  then 
I  looked  up  at  mother,  and  saw  that  she  was  watch- 
ing them,  too,  and  that  her  face  was  quite  serious. 

"It's  the  balloon-boy,"  I  whispered,  almost  to 
myself.  Mother  put  a  hand  on  my  shoulder. 

"He  may  be  Jackie  Fales,  of  Philadelphia,"  she 
said.  And  added,  proudly:  "But  not  John  Fales, 
of  Fales!" 

17 


Ill 

ON    OUR   WAY    HOME 

1  DIDN'T  see  Jackie  Fales  again  in  Tangier. 
He  and  his  mother  left  on  the  next  steamer, 
and  not  long  after  we  followed.  We  had  a 
pleasant  trip  home,  and  as  both  of  us  are  good 
sailors  we  enjoyed  it. 

It  was  on  this  voyage  back  to  America  that  I 
learned  for  the  first  time  something  of  the  mis- 
understanding between  mother  and  Great-grand- 
father Fales,  and  just  why  my  being  called  "John 
Fales"  made  such  a  difference. 

One  warm,  sunny  day  mother  and  I  were 
sitting  side  by  side,  wrapped  up  in  rugs,  looking 
out  on  the  tumbling  ocean.  There  were  hardly 
any  people  on  deck  and  none  near  us,  so  I  thought 
it  would  be  a  fine  chance  to  ask  about  a  matter 
that  had  puzzled  me  for  some  time. 

"Mother,"  I  began,  "when  the  balloon-boy 
said  he  was  'Jackie  Fales,  of  Philadelphia/  what 
did  you  mean  by  saying,  'Not  John  Fales,  of 
Fales'?" 

Mother  looked  so  serious  and  thoughtful  that 
18 


ON    OUR    WAY    HOME 

I  began  to  think  perhaps  I  had  displeased  her;  but 
I  hadn't,  because  she  slipped  a  hand  under  my 
steamer-rug,  and  took  one  of  my  hands  and  gave 
it  a  little  squeeze  and  held  it,  so  I  knew  it  was  all 
right,  and  waited  till  she  was  ready  to  talk. 

At  last  she  looked  down  at  me  with  a  loving 
little  smile,  and  said: 

"You  know,  dearie,  I  have  never  talked  to  you 
about  Great-grandfather  Fales  because  you  were 
too  little  to  comprehend  a  great  many  things,  and 
I  didn't  want  you  to  get  a  wrong  idea  of  him.  He 
is  a  dear,  good  old  gentleman,  and  in  spite  of  every- 
thing that  has  happened,  I  still  love  and  respect 
him  very  much  indeed.  I  can  understand,  too, 
how  he  may  have  thought  as  he  did." 

Then  mother  explained  that  when  father  was 
killed  there  was  no  man  to  inherit  the  Fales  es- 
tate, which  had  been  handed  down  from  father  to 
son  for  generations.  Great-grandfather  had  told 
mother  again  and  again  that  the  first  child  to  be 
named  "John  Fales"  should  be  given  Fales,  but 
of  course  he  meant  the  first  boy;  so,  when  mother 
named  me  "John,"  he  thought  she  had  done  it  to 
trick  him,  and  that  made  him  so  angry  that  he  never 
came  to  see  her  again.  He  prided  himself  upon 
being  as  good  as  his  word,  but  he  didn't  want  the 
estate  to  go  to  a  girl  because,  you  see,  she  might 
get  married  and  change  her  name;  and,  if  she 
didn't  marry,  there  wouldn't  be  anybody  to  inherit 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

it  after  she  died.  So,  naturally,  when  I  turned  out 
to  be  a  girl  he  was  very  much  upset,  though  I 
can't  understand  how  he  could  have  misjudged 
mother. 

Then,  to  make  matters  worse,  another  "John 
Fales"  was  born  just  four  days  after  I  came — 
a  really,  truly  boy  this  time!  In  fact,  I  might  just 
as  well  tell  you  that  he  was  the  Jackie  Fales,  of 
Philadelphia,  that  I  had  met  in  the  Square,  and 
again  in  Tangier.  These  Fales  are  distant  cousins, 
and  although  I  am  a  Philadelphian  and  very  much 
interested  in  families,  I  can't  quite  make  out  exact- 
ly what  relation  they  are  to  us.  I  think  their 
great-grandfather  was  a  cousin  of  Great-grand- 
father Fales,  but  I'm  not  sure.  However,  his 
coming  did  mix  things  up,  because  he  was  "John 
Fales"  too,  and,  after  all,  the  only  boy  of  the 
name. 

Of  course,  mother  didn't  know  what  great- 
grandfather meant  to  do.  He  sent  his  lawyer 
to  her,  and  offered  I  don't  know  how  many  dollars 
if  she  would  absolve  him  from  his  promise  about 
Fales;  but  mother  replied  that  she  could  not  accept 
anything  from  one  who  misjudged  her,  and  that, 
while  she  had  named  me  "John"  believing  me 
to  be  a  boy,  I  was  great-grandfather's  only  direct 
heir,  and  she  was  unwilling  to  sell  my  birthright. 
This  seemed  to  make  great-grandfather  more 
angry  than  ever,  because  after  that  my  great- 

20 


ON    OUR    WAY    HOME 

aunts,  who  never  married  and  live  together  in  the 
Fales  town  house  on  Rittenhouse  Square,  stopped 
coming  to  see  us,  and  mother  naturally  thought 
that  great-grandfather  had  forbidden  them. 

Of  course,  I  was  very  much  interested  in  all  this, 
but  what  I  liked  best  were  the  stories  of  Fales 
itself,  though  mother  never  even  hinted  that  per- 
haps some  day  it  might  belong  to  me,  because,  you 
see,  she  couldn't  foretell  what  great-grandfather 
might  do. 

It  is  funny  to  think  of  Fales  standing  to-day 
exactly  as  it  did  when  General  Washington  was  a 
little  boy.  It  is  only  a  short  distance  from  Clive- 
den, the  Chew  estate,  where  the  battle  of  German- 
town  was  fought.  There  were  children  at  Fales 
during  the  Revolution,  and  they  saw  Continental 
troops  and  British  soldiers  coming  and  going 
constantly.  They  had  soldier  dolls,  but  because 
they  had  to  be  brought  from  Europe,  they  were 
dressed  either  in  British  or  Hessian  uniforms,  and 
that  didn't  do  at  all,  for  we  were  stanch  Whigs 
from  the  start.  So  the  children  had  to  re-dress 
their  dolls  like  Continental  patriots.  One  of 
these  they  stood  on  the  nursery  window-sill  to  act 
as  sentinel,  and  he  was  there  when  the  battle  of 
Germantown  was  fought.  Just  think  of  those 
children,  cuddling  down  in  bed  and  hiding  their 
heads  under  the  covers  to  shut  out  the  sound  of 
the  cannon  and  guns!  It  must  have  been  awfully 
21 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

exciting  and  dangerous;  for  it  was  so  near  that, 
on  the  next  morning,  they  found  a  stray  bullet 
had  hit  their  doll  sentinel  over  the  heart.  As 
soon  as  they  dared,  they  gave  him  a  military 
funeral.  I  know  this,  because  I  have  seen  the 
little  stone  which  reads:  "Shot  in  the  discharge  of 
his  duty.  October  4,  1777." 

That  is  only  one  of  the  many,  many  true  stories 
of  Fales  which,  of  course,  I  learned  later.  But  it 
was  when,  little  by  little,  mother  began  to  talk  of 
father's  boyhood  that  I  became  most  interested. 

"Your  father  was  John  Fales,  too,  you  know, 
dearie,"  mother  began,  "and  I  think  it  must  have 
been  from  him  that  you  inherit  your  venturesome 
spirit.  He  was  always  getting  into  some  sort  of 
trouble — not  mischief,  you  know,  but  real  danger, 
because  he  wasn't  afraid  of  anything,  I  guess. 
Once  when  he  was  a  baby  only  four  years  old  he 
slipped  away  without  his  nurse's  seeing  him,  and 
after  quite  a  search  they  found  him  near  the  deep 
ice-pond  scolding  Max,  the  big  Newfoundland  dog 
that  was  always  with  him,  because  he  wouldn't 
let  him  go  near  the  water  to  play.  Max  had  tight 
hold  of  his  skirts  with  his  teeth,  and  in  spite  of  your 
father's  hitting  him  with  his  little  fists,  he  wouldn't 
let  go.  Great-grandfather  Fales  said  that  in  all 
probability  he  had  saved  the  baby's  life,  and  at  any 
rate  he  had  shown  much  more  intelligence  than  if 
he  had  waited  until  your  father  had  fallen  in  and 
22 


ON    OUR    WAY    HOME 

pulled  him  out  afterward,  and  I  think  so  too.  You 
may  believe  they  took  good  care  of  Max,  and 
great-grandfather  bought  him  a  fine  silver  collar 
that  they  say  the  dog  was  very  proud  of.  Then 
there  was  another  time,  when  your  father  was  a  big 
boy,  during  the  Christmas  vacation,  that  Max 
proved  most  useful.  Your  father  took  the  dog 
and  went  off  into  the  woods  that  are  several  miles 
from  the  house  to  shoot  squirrels.  As  he  was  about 
to  start  home  his  foot  slipped  and  was  caught  be- 
tween two  rocks.  Try  as  he  would,  he  couldn't 
get  it  loose.  It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  and  grow- 
ing very  cold,  so,  after  struggling  for  a  while  and 
seeing  that  he  couldn't  do  anything  for  himself, 
he  shot  off  his  last  cartridge,  hoping  some  one  would 
hear  it,  and  then  lay  down  on  the  ground  as  com- 
fortably as  he  could.  But  his  teeth  began  to 
chatter,  and  in  a  short  while  he  felt  very  stupidly 
sleepy.  He  had  read  of  people  freezing  to  death 
and  tried  to  rouse  himself,  but  really  couldn't. 
He  jerked  his  foot  till  it  hurt  awfully,  but  even  that 
didn't  do  any  good.  Then  old  Max  began  to  lick 
his  face,  and  that  put  an  idea  into  your  father's 
head.  He  tied  his  cap  to  Max's  collar,  and  sent 
him  off  to  the  house.  At  first  Max  wouldn't  go, 
and  whined  as  if  to  say  he  wouldn't  desert  his 
master;  but  he  understood  at  last,  and  then  he  just 
tore  off  through  the  woods,  and  it  wasn't  long 
before  he  returned  with  help.  It  took  five  men 
3  23 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

to  pry  those  rocks  apart  and  get  your  father's 
foot  out,  and  although  they  feared  he  might  get 
pneumonia,  he  was  all  right  the  next  day  except 
for  a  pretty  stiff  ankle." 

Mother  stopped  and  looked  wistfully  out  to  sea, 
and  I  knew  she  was  thinking  of  father,  so  I  squeezed 
her  hand  and  kept  still.  Presently  she  spoke 
again. 

"Your  father  told  me  all  about  it  himself,  and 
he  said  that  the  next  morning  Great-grandfather 
Fales  came  to  his  room  and  gazed  down  at  him 
for  a  long  time  without  a  word;  then  he  said,  'Well, 
sir,  and  how  are  you  feeling  ?'  Your  father  said 
he  was  all  right,  and  they  talked  about  the  accident 
till  great-grandfather  had  to  go.  Just  as  he  was 
leaving  the  room,  he  said:  'What  are  we  going  to 
do  for  that  dog  Max  ?  We  can't  give  him  another 
collar,  and  he  ought  to  have  something/  'I 
think  he'd  rather  have  a  bone  than  a  collar  any 
time,'  your  father  replied.  And  great-grandfather 
burst  out  laughing,  and  cried:  'Bless  me!  you're 
right,  quite  right;  I'll  go  see  about  it  at  once.' 
And  he  chuckled  all  the  way  down-stairs." 

"Mother,"  I  said,  a  little  later,  "do  you  re- 
member the  old  gentleman  in  the  Square  who 
seemed  to  know  the  balloon-boy  ?  He  talked  just 
like  that." 

"Yes,  dearie,"  mother  answered,  "that  old  gen- 
tleman was  your  great-grandfather." 
24 


IV 

I   DELIVER   A    LETTER 

T  WENT  to  school  almost  at  once  when  we  got 
1  back  to  Philadelphia.  I  found  I  was  ahead  of 
the  other  children  of  my  age  in  languages,  for  al- 
though many  of  them  spoke  either  French  or 
German,  few  knew  both;  and  I  could  jabber  quite 
well  in  Italian  too,  though  I  couldn't  read  it;  but 
I  was  behind  in  'most  everything  else,  and  it  was 
very  embarrassing.  I  soon  had  to  ask  mother 
to  let  me  use  the  German  and  French  conversation 
time  for  extra  study,  so  that  I  could  catch  up  with 
the  other  girls.  This  wasn't  because  I  love  to 
study  especially,  but  for  the  reason  that  I  was 
ashamed  to  be  in  classes  with  girls  who  were  so 
much  smaller;  for  I  was  large  for  my  years,  and  it 
made  me  feel  awfully  to  have  a  tiny  tot  who 
couldn't  speak  plainly  answer  questions  that 
were  Greek  to  me;  so  I  worked  hard  that  first 
winter,  and  by  spring  was  sure  I  could  begin  the 
following  winter  on  even  terms  with  the  others. 
Mother  was  much  pleased  with  this,  and  said  she 
25 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

wished  she  could  take  me  to  Africa  all  over  again, 
which  made  me  very  comfy  inside. 

But  during  that  winter  several  things  happened 
that  I  must  tell  about. 

Although  my  great-aunts  knew  that  we  were 
back  from  Europe,  they  never  came  to  see  us.  At 
Christmas,  however,  they  sent  a  lot  of  very  ex- 
pensive baby  books  and  a  woolly  lamb  that 
"baaed"  most  beautifully. 

Now,  of  course  it  was  very  sweet  of  them  to  re- 
member me  at  all;  still,  I  do  think  they  might 
have  found  more  appropriate  presents  for  a  great 
girl  of  nine  years  old,  and  I  know  mother  laughed 
at  some  of  the  things  I  said  about  it,  though  I 
can't  recollect  what  they  were.  But  I  have  copies 
of  the  letters  I  wrote  to  them,  and  they  seem  funny 
enough  now. 

I  had  just  learned  what  "ditto"  meant,  and, 
being  very  proud  of  it,  I  saw  a  way  of  making  it 
useful  and  showing  off  my  knowledge  at  the  same 
time,  so  I  wrote: 

"  DEAR  AUNT  MARTHA, 
"      SELINA, 
"      CAROLINE, 

"      HENRIETTA, — Thank  you  for  the  baby 
book  and  the  "  and  the  "  and  the  ".      Also  for  the 
woolly  lamb,  which  I  think  a  little  child  might  enjoy. 
"Yours  truly, 

"JOHN  FALES." 
26 


I    DELIVER    A    LETTER 

I  needn't  tell  you  that  mother  laughed  over  this, 
and  it  does  make  a  strange-looking  letter.  We 
talked  the  matter  over,  and  she  explained  that  it 
was  polite  to  write  all  the  words  in  a  formal  note, 
and  suggested  that  I  begin, "My  dear  Great-aunts." 

"And  you  know,  dearie,"  said  mother,  "they 
are  old  ladies,  and  have  forgotten  how  busy  you've 
been  growing  up.  They  only  meant  to  be  kind, 
so  if  I  were  you  I  wouldn't  risk  hurting  their 
feelings." 

To  please  mother,  I  wrote,  saying,  "My  dear 
Great-aunts, — Thank  you  for  sending  the  Christ- 
mas presents."  Then  I  wanted  to  add:  "But 
you'd  be  astonished  how  I've  grown  up."  I  had 
to  ask  mother  how  to  spell  "astonished,"  and  she 
advised  me  to  leave  that  sentence  out  altogether. 

"And  couldn't  you  say  *  Lovingly'  instead  of 
*  Yours  truly'  ?"  mother  asked. 

"How  can  I?"  I  answered.  "I  don't  even  re- 
member when  they  had  to  be  coaxed  to  take  me 
in  their  laps  to  hear  me  yell.  You  can't  be 
'Lovingly'  to  people  you  don't  know." 

So  that  was  settled,  and  I  copied  the  letter 
on  our  best  note-paper.  I  acknowledged  it  was 
rather  short,  but  I  was  much  pleased  with  the  way 
it  looked  outside,  and  asked  mother  to  let  me 
leave  it  myself  on  the  way  to  the  Square  with 
my  nurse.  I  was  really  afraid  the  postman  would 
not  have  had  his  hands  washed. 
27 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

Mother  said  I  might,  and  it  wasn't  long  before  I 
was  climbing  the  high  brown  steps  of  the  Fales 
town  house. 

There  was  a  carriage  at  the  curb,  and  a  man  in 
livery  standing  beside  it,  very  stiff  and  straight, 
with  a  beautiful  fur  rug  over  his  arm.  I  had 
hardly  rung  the  bell  when  the  door  opened,  and 
there  was  great-grandfather  just  coming  out.  He 
seemed  surprised  to  see  me,  and  stopped. 

"Well,  my  little  girl,  do  you  want  to  come  in  ?" 
he  asked. 

"No,  thank  you,"  I  replied. 

"Bless  me,  why  did  you  ring?"  he  inquired, 
looking  down  at  me  with  a  smile. 

"I  want  to  leave  this  letter,  but  I'm  sure  I 
ought  to  give  it  to  a  servant,"  I  answered,  much 
embarrassed,  although  certain  I  shouldn't  expect 
him  to  take  charge  of  a  letter  that  was  for  some 
one  else. 

"Quite  right,"  he  said,  heartily.  "Quite  right. 
A  man  will  be  here  in  a  minute  to  take  it.  But 
who  is  the  letter  from,  little  girl  ?" 

"  It  is  from  me,"  I  said,  soberly. 

"I  am  sorry  to  say  we  have  no  children  here  for 
you  to  write  to.  Don't  you  think  you've  made  a 
mistake,  little  girl?" 

Now  this  was  the  third  time  he  had  called  me 
"little  girl,"  and  it  was  more  than  flesh  and  blood 
could  bear. 

28 


I    DELIVER    A    LETTER 

"No,"  I  returned,  quite  positively.  "No,  this 
is  the  right  house.  The  letter  is  for  my  great- 
aunts — and  I'm  not  a  little  girl.  Perhaps  I  was 
when  you  saw  me  last,  but  I  am  perfectly  huge 
now.  Everybody  says  so." 

"Bless  me!"  said  great-grandfather,  putting  on 
his  glasses  and  looking  hard  at  me.  "Bless  me! 
is  it  John  Fales  again  ?  Now  that  I  see  you,  I 
realize  that  you  are  quite  right!  You  are  per- 
fectly huge.  And  where  did  you  come  from  ?" 

"From  Africa  last,"  I  told  him,  "but  now  I 
am  going  to  stay  home  and  grow  up  an  American. 
Mother  says  a  Fales  must  be  educated  in  America." 

"And  she's  quite  right,  quite  right,"  he  agreed, 
nodding  his  head;  and  then  as  a  servant  opened  the 
door,  he  took  me  by  the  hand  and  led  me  into  the 
house. 

"My  dear,"  said  great-grandfather,  "I  want 
your  aunts  to  see  you." 


FOUR   DEAR   OLD    LADIES 

WHEN   great-grandfather  took  me    into   the 
house  to  see  my  great-aunts  I  was  too  much 
surprised  to  think  of  anything  very  much.     It  was 
so  unexpected  that  we  were  inside  before  I  quite 
realized  what  was  going  on. 

As  we  went  into  the  reception-room  off  the 
hall  great-grandfather  called,  "Martha!"  and  then 
sat  down  while  I  stood  beside  him.  He  still  held 
my  hand  and  kept  looking  at  me,  now  and  then 
murmuring,  "Bless  me!  Bless  me!" 

In  a  moment  or  two  a  very  sweet  old  lady  came 
into  the  room,  but  stopped  short  as  she  saw  us. 

"And  who  do  you  think  this  is,  Martha?"  said 
great-grandfather,  nodding  at  me. 

"Oh,"  cried  Aunt  Martha,  "it's  John  Fales!" 
Then  running  to  the  door,  she  called,  "Selina!" 

A  second  later  Aunt  Selina  hurried  in. 

"And  who  do  you  think  this  is?"  said  Aunt 
Martha. 

"Oh,"  cried  Aunt  Selina,  "it's   John   Fales!" 
And  she  at  once  called  Aunt  Caroline. 
30 


FOUR    DEAR    OLD    LADIES 

"And  who  do  you  think  this  is?"  said  Aunt 
Selina  when  Aunt  Caroline  had  arrived. 

"Oh,"  cried  Aunt  Caroline,  "it's  John  Fales!" 
And  she  immediately  called  "Henrietta,"  who, 
when  she  was  asked,  cried,  "Oh,  it's  John  Fales!" 

So  there  they  all  were,  standing  in  a  row,  looking 
down  at  great-grandfather  and  me. 

Somehow  I  didn't  feel  at  all  embarrassed. 
They  were  such  dear,  sweet  old  ladies,  and  smiled 
at  me  in  so  kindly  a  way  that  I  was  sure  it  was 
only  surprise  that  kept  them  staring.  In  fact,  it 
did  seem  as  if  they  were  really  more  uncom- 
fortable than  I  was,  because  presently  they  began 
to  glance  at  one  another  and  nod  their  heads,  as 
if  they  knew  something  should  be  done  and  were 
not  quite  sure  how  to  do  it. 

At  last  Aunt  Martha  came  over  and  kissed  me, 
saying:  "We  are  very,  very  glad  to  see  you,  John 
Fales  —  and  how  you've  grown!"  Then  Aunt 
Selina  and  Aunt  Caroline  and  Aunt  Henrietta  each 
kissed  me  in  turn,  saying  almost  the  exact  words 
that  Aunt  Martha  had. 

After  they  had  asked  how  mother  was,  and  many 
questions  about  Europe  and  school,  and  things 
like  that,  they  began  to  talk  to  great-grandfather, 
calling  him  "father,"  which,  I  remember,  sur- 
prised me,  as  they  didn't  really  appear  to  be 
any  younger  than  he  was,  though  of  course  they 
were. 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

I  didn't  understand  all  they  were  saying  because 
it  was  hard  to  follow  them,  for  Aunt  Martha 
would  begin  a  sentence,  and  each  sister  would  add 
a  little  to  it  till  it  came  to  Aunt  Henrietta,  who 
would  say  it  all  over  again  differently. 

They  were  urging  great-grandfather  to  do  some- 
thing which  he  didn't  want  to  do,  and  toward  the 
end  I  remember  Aunt  Martha  saying: 

"But,  father,  you  see  she  is  all  Fales." 

"The  very  image  of  John's  boy,"  continued 
Aunt  Selina. 

"And  like  brother  John  at  the  same  age,  for  that 
matter,"  added  Aunt  Caroline. 

"What  they  mean,  father,"  said  Aunt  Hen- 
rietta, "is  that  John  Fales  has  black  hair  and  gray 
eyes,  and  resembles  our  family  in  every  particular." 

"But  bless  me,"  said  great-grandfather,  "don't 
you  see  she's  a  girl  ?" 

"That  is  a  misfortune,  but — "  began  Aunt 
Martha. 

"It  is  a  question  of  the  works  of  Providence," 
said  Aunt  Selina. 

"And  surely  to  blame  the  child — "  Aunt  Caro- 
line suggested. 

"I  think,  father,"  Aunt  Henrietta  explained, 
"that  what  my  sisters  wish  to  express  is  the  fact 
that  the  child  is  not  to  be  held  accountable  or  to 
suffer  as  a  result  of  conditions  over  which  no  one 
had  any  control." 

32 


FOUR    DEAR    OLD    LADIES 

"Yes,  yes,  I  know  all  that,"  great-grandfather 
replied.  "  But  you  can't  lay  the  naming  of  her  to 
Providence!" 

"  In  that  connection,  father, "  said  Aunt 
Martha,  "  it  is  possible  that  you  may  have 
erred." 

"Or  at  least  have  misunderstood,"  Aunt  Selina 
remarked. 

"Or  perhaps  been  mistaken,"  Aunt  Caroline 
said,  hesitatingly.  Aunt  Henrietta  was  about 
to  explain  again  when  great-grandfather  in- 
terrupted. 

"It  is  entirely  creditable  to  you  all  to  hold  such 
views,"  he  said,  getting  slowly  to  his  feet.  "But, 
bless  me!  things  are  coming  to  a  pretty  pass," 
he  went  on  with  a  chuckle,  "when  a  parcel  of 
young  women  propose  to  advise  their  parent  on  a 
matter  of  such  importance.  Come  along,  John 
Fales.  Kiss  your  aunts  good-bye.  I  am  late 
again,  and  you  would  rather  be  playing  in  the 
Square,  I  know.'* 

They  kissed  me  one  after  another,  beginning 
with  Aunt  Martha  and  then  great-grandfather, 
and  I  went  out. 

"Good-bye,  John  Fales,"  he  said,  as  he  stepped 
into  the  carriage. 

"Good-bye,  John  Fales,  Senior,"  I  answered, 
the  word  popping  into  my  head. 

"Bless  me!  'John  Fales,  Senior!'"  he  laughed, 
33 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

and  then  his  face  became  very  grave.  "John 
Fales,  Senior,"  he  repeated,  almost  to  himself. 
"Yes — yes,  that  is  what  I  have  been  for  so  many, 
many  years,  and  why — why,  couldn't  you  have 
been  John  Fales,  Junior?" 


VI 

A  ROYAL  SIGNET 

I  STOOD  for  a  minute  or  two  watching  the 
carriage  with  great-grandfather  in  it  drive 
away,  wondering  just  what  he  meant  by  saying 
he  wished  I  had  been  "John  Fales,  Junior."  He 
seemed  so  serious  about  it  that  I  was  sure  it  was 
important;  but  Marie,  my  nurse,  put  all  that  out 
of  my  head  for  the  time  being  by  exclaiming: 

"Oh!  voila  la  lettre,  Mademoiselle!"  And 
there,  sure  enough,  was  my  letter  to  the  great- 
aunts  still  in  my  hand.  In  my  excitement  at 
seeing  them  I  had  forgotten  all  about  deliver- 
ing it. 

My  first  thought  was  to  run  up  the  steps  again 
and  give  it  to  a  servant;  but  another  idea  came  to 
me,  and  I  decided  to  let  Marie  keep  it  while  I 
played  in  the  Square  until  it  was  time  to  go  home. 

I  was  anxious  to  see  mother,  and  the  minute 
we  were  alone  together  I  told  her  my  news. 

She  listened  gravely  to  all  I  had  to  say,  now 
and  then  putting  in  a  word  to  show  she  understood, 
or  helping  me  out  with  a  question  about  what  the 
35 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

great-aunts  had  said  to  great-grandfather.  At 
the  end  I  asked  her  why  great-grandfather  had 
said  he  wished  I  had  been  "John  Fales,  Junior." 

"  Do  you  really  want  to  know,  dearie  ?"  she 
asked. 

"'Course  I  do,  mother,"  I  answered,  "because 
if  you  had  been  there  when  great-grandfather  said 
it  you  would  'predate  how  important  it  is." 

"It  is  important,  dearie,"  mother  explained — 
"very  important,  especially  to  your  great-grand- 
father. You  see,  what  he  really  wished  was  that 
you  had  been  a  boy." 

"  But,  mother,  aren't  girls  ever  any  use  ?  And 
why  does  everybody  wish  I  was  a  boy  ?" 

There  were  tears  in  my  eyes,  and  I  guess  my 
voice  was  a  little  choky,  because  mother  put  her 
arms  about  me  and  hugged  me  tight. 

"Dearie,  dearie,"  she  said,  lovingly,  "I  wouldn't 
have  you  a  boy  for  all  the  world.  Perhaps 
once  or  twice,  when  you  were  a  wee  baby,  I  might 
have  wished  it,  but  now — now  I  couldn't  get  along 
without  you!" 

It  is  a  comfort  to  have  a  mother  who  knows  just 
how  you  feel  inside,  because  sometimes  it's  very 
hard  to  explain. 

After  a  moment,  I  said:  "But  I'm  sure  he  likes 
me,  and  I  do  like  him.  He's  such  a  gentleman!" 

"You  mean  great-grandfather?"  mother  asked. 

"Yes,  of  course,"  I  answered.  "And,  mother," 
36 


A    ROYAL    SIGNET 

I  went  on,  "I  don't  believe  the  great-aunts  mind 
my  being  a  girl  very  much.  I'm  glad  I  forgot  to 
give  them  the  letter." 

"And  why  is  that,  dearie  ?" 

"Because,"  I  explained,  "it  wasn't  a  very  nice 
letter,  was  it  ?  Besides,  since  I've  seen  what 
sweet  old  ladies  they  are  I  don't  think  '  Yours 
truly'  is  exactly  polite,  and  now  I  can  write  'Lov- 
ingly.'" 

The  next  day  I  sent  another  letter  to  the  great- 
aunts  by  the  postman,  and  I  know  they  liked  it 
because  they  answered  it  at  once,  and  each  one 
signed  their  letter,  beginning  with  Aunt  Martha, 
of  course. 

Just  before  Easter  a  man  dressed  in  the  Fales 
livery  stopped  at  the  house  and  left  a  small  pack- 
age addressed  to  "Miss  John  Fales." 

You  can  guess  how  excited  I  was  and  how  my 
fingers  trembled  as  I  opened  it,  for  I  knew  it  must 
have  come  from  either  great-grandfather  or  the 
great-aunts. 

Inside  I  found  a  wonderful  ring,  like  a  man's 
signet,  of  heavy  yellow  gold.  There  was  a  huge 
sapphire  set  in  the  top,  in  which  was  carved  the 
Fales  coat  of  arms. 

There  was  no  letter,  only  a  strip  of  paper  slipped 
through  the  ring,  on  which  was  written,  "I  regret 
that  it  should  have  to  be  in  lozenge." 

"What  does  that  mean,  mother?"  I  asked.  "I 
37 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

thought  lozenges  were  kind  of  candy  things  people 
took  when  they  had  colds!" 

"This  isn't  that  kind  of  a  lozenge,"  said  moth- 
er, laughing.  "You  see,  dearie,"  she  explained, 
"in  the  old,  old  days  a  coat  of  arms  and  a  crest 
were  sometimes  given  to  the  men  who  went  to  war 
and  fought  bravely  for  the  king,  but  of  course  the 
women  stayed  at  home,  so  they  cannot  use  a  crest 
at  all.  They  may,  however,  bear  the  coat  of 
arms  of  their  family,  only  it  is  cut  in  a  certain  way 
which  is  called  'in  lozenge/  so  that  if  you  sealed  a 
letter  with  it  signed  'John  Fales '  a  person  who 
knew  could  tell  at  once  that  you  were  a  girl." 

"And  it  was  great-grandfather  who  sent  it, 
wasn't  it  ?"  I  asked. 

"Yes,  dearie,"  she  answered. 

"Then  he  means  that  he  regrets  I  am  a  lozenge!" 
I  said.  I  think  mother  must  have  had  a  hard 
time  to  keep  a  straight  face,  but  had  she  laughed 
I  am  sure  my  feelings  would  have  been  very 
much  hurt  because  I  was  deeply  in  earnest.  It 
seemed  to  me  that  great-grandfather  was  always 
telling  me  in  one  way  or  another  how  sorry  he 
was  that  I  had  been  born  a  girl,  and  for  a  minute  or 
two  I  thought  he  had  sent  the  ring  to  remind  me 
of  it,  and  that  took  away  all  the  pleasure.  But 
mother  made  it  clear  to  me. 

"Dearie,"  she  began,  "there  are  things  that 
you  are  too  young  to  understand.  Some  day 
38 


A    ROYAL    SIGNET 

you  will  know  all  about  it,  but  in  the  mean  time 
you  must  believe  that  your  great-grandfather 
really  and  truly  likes  you,  or  he  wouldn't  have 
sent  the  ring.  He  is  a  kind,  generous,  and  loving 
old  gentleman,  who  is  much  worried  about  certain 
affairs  that  would  have  been  set  right  if  you  had 
been  a  boy;  so  don't  get  it  into  your  head,  dearie, 
that  he  doesn't  care  for  you,  because  I  am  quite 
sure  he  does,  and  when  he  knows  you  better  he 
will  love  you." 

"Do  you  think  that  some  day  he  will  really 
be  fond  of  me,  even  though  I  am  a  girl  ?"  I  asked. 

"  I  am  quite  sure  of  it,"  she  answered. 

Then  I  looked  at  my  ring  again,  and  it  seemed 
more  beautiful  than  ever. 

Even  yet  I  am  too  young  to  wear  it,  for  it  is  ex- 
tremely valuable,  but  on  very  special  occasions 
mother  allows  me  to  seal  a  letter  with  it,  and  she 
calls  it  "the  royal  signet  of  Queen  John  the 
First,"  so  I  know  she  guesses  how  proud  I  feel 
when  I  use  it.  Mothers  have  a  way  of  guessing 
things. 

The  day  after  the  ring  came  was  Easter  Sunday, 
and  mother  and  I  went  to  Holy  Trinity  Church  to- 
gether for  the  morning  service.  It  was  a  beautiful 
day,  warm  and  sunny,  so  that  the  church  was 
crowded. 

On  our  way  out  mother  stopped  to  speak  to  one 
of  her  friends,  and  I  walked  to  the  steps  to  wait 
4  39 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

for  her.  While  I  was  standing  there,  watching  the 
people  in  their  Easter  finery,  I  heard  a  voice  I 
knew  saying: 

"Good-morning,  John  Fales,"  and  there  was 
great-grandfather  beside  me. 

"Oh,  I'm  so  glad  to  see  you,"  I  exclaimed, 
excitedly,  "to  thank  you  for  the  ring!  It's — 
it's  beautiful!  I'm  so  proud  that  nobody  but  a 
Fales  can  have  one!" 

"  So  you  like  it,  then  ?"  said  great-grandfather, 
looking  very  much  pleased. 

"Awfully!"  I  replied.  "That's  why  I'm  so  glad 
to  see  you,  'cause  I  couldn't  possibly  tell  you  how 
I  loved  it  in  a  letter.  Letters  are  so  stiff!" 

"Well,  I'm  glad  it  pleased  you,"  he  said.  "  But 
now  I  must  go  on,  so  good-bye,  John  Fales." 

"Good-bye,  John  Fales,  Senior,"  I  returned. 

"Don't  you  know  what  relation  I  am  to  you  ?" 
he  asked,  stopping. 

"Yes,"  I  replied. 

"Then  why  do  you  never  call  me  'Grand- 
father?'" 

"I — I  didn't — know  you  would  want  me  to," 
I  began,  hesitatingly.  "  I  thought  you  perfect- 
edly  hated  me  for  being  a  girl  till  mother  told 
me  she  was  sure  you  didn't,  and  that  was  only 
yesterday.  She  said  perhaps,  after  a  while,  if 
you  saw  me  pretty  often  and  I  tried  not  to  be  too 
horrid,  you  might  get  used  to  me  and  let  me 
40 


A    ROYAL    SIGNET 

belong  to  you  a  little.  You  see,  there's  all  father's 
part  waiting  for  some  one." 

"Bless  me,  so  there  is,"  said  great-grandfather, 
gently.  ''And  I  claim  that  part  right  now.  If 
anything  in  the  world  could  reconcile  me  to  your 
being  a  girl  it  would  be  you,  John  Fales,  and  you 
can  tell  your  mother  I  said  so.  Now  say, '  Good- 
bye, grandfather,'"  which  I  did,  and  he  took  off 
his  hat  and  kissed  me. 

As  he  went  away  I  glanced  up  and  saw  a  lady 
beautifully  dressed,  who  was  staring  very  hard  at 
me.  I  learned  later  that  she  was  Cousin  Maria, 
Jackie  Fales's  mother. 


VII 

THE    SECRET   ROOM 

AETTER  that  great-grandfather  and  I  became 
very  good  friends  indeed.  Somehow  or 
other  we  were  always  meeting  each  other,  mostly 
in  the  Square;  but  it  was  too  cold  for  him  to  stay 
long  out-of-doors,  so  we  didn't  have  any  real  con- 
versations. He  asked  me  about  school  and  what 
I  was  studying,  and  seemed  interested  in  all  the 
things  I  was  doing.  He  often  laughed  at  what  I 
said  to  him,  but  it  didn't  hurt  your  feelings  like 
some  people  do  when  they  laugh — you  know  what 
I  mean.  He  didn't  seem  to  be  making  fun  of  you, 
only  seeing  something  amusing  that  you  would 
understand  when  you  were  older. 

For  some  reason  I  got  an  idea  that  he  didn't 
want  to  talk  about  Fales,  though  just  why  I  never 
made  out.  Perhaps  it  was  because  he  always 
spoke  of  "going  to  the  country"  when  he  got  into 
the  carriage  to  drive  home;  for  he  rarely  stayed  in 
the  town  house,  preferring  to  live  at  Fales  all  the 
year  round. 

I  was  sure,  however,  that  great-grandfather 
42 


THE    SECRET    ROOM 

could  tell  me  most  interesting  stories  of  Fales,  and 
often  I  was  tempted  to  ask  questions,  but  never 
did,  although  I  was  thinking  about  it  whenever  I 
saw  him. 

At  last,  one  warm  spring  day  at  the  end  of  May, 
I  saw  him  come  down  the  steps  of  the  house  and 
walk  slowly  into  the  Square.  He  was  looking  at 
the  children  as  if  he  were  searching  for  some  one, 
and  I  ran  over  to  him  as  hard  as  I  could. 

"Oh,  there  you  are!"  he  said,  when  I  came  up 
to  him;  and  then  we  kissed  each  other,  as  we  al- 
ways did  those  days.  As  he  straightened  up  he 
looked  at  me  and  said,  laughingly: 

"Bless  me,  John  Fales,  I  believe  you've  grown 
a  foot  since  last  week!" 

"Oh,  grandfather,  not  that  much,  I  hope," 
I  answered,  seriously,  because  this  was  a  teasing 
matter,  for  really  I  was  huge.  "Mother  tells  me," 
I  went  on,  "that  it  keeps  her  busy  letting  down 
hems — and  new  dresses  cost  a  lot,  which  makes 
big  people  so  much  more  'spensive.  Don't  you 
think  so?" 

"Perhaps  it  does,"  he  answered.  "They  cer- 
tainly eat  more,  and  I  never  knew  a  Fales  who 
didn't  have  a  large  appetite." 

"Mine's  'normous!"  I  said,  proudly. 

"Bless  me,  I've  no  doubt  of  it!"  great-grand- 
father said  with  a  chuckle,  and  then  we  found  a 
nice  sunny  bench,  where  we  sat  down  for  a  good 
43 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

long  talk.  When  we  were  quite  comfortable 
great-grandfather  surprised  me  by  saying: 

"Did  any  one  ever  tell  you  about  Fales  ?" 

"Mother  told  me  a  little  of  it,"  I  replied. 

"Well,  my  dear,  it  is  time  you  knew  more  about 
it,"  he  went  on.  "  Bless  me,  what  a  lot  of  things 
have  happened  there !  And  they  were  things  you 
and  I  may  be  proud  of,  John  Fales.  There  wasn't  a 
man  who  didn't  do  his  duty  when  he  was  needed — 
no,  nor  a  woman  either  for  that  matter,  and  there 
were  brave  women  among  the  Fales.  I  suppose 
I'm  partial  to  the  old  place.  Other  houses  have 
as  many  traditions  no  doubt,  but  it  is  where  your 
family  and  mine  have  lived  for  generation  after 
generation.  That's  something,  you  know." 

He  stopped  for  a  moment  and  patted  my  hand, 
lying  on  the  bench  beside  him. 

"Bless  me,"  he  went  on,  "what  an  old  man  I 
am!  But — enough  of  this,  let's  get  on  with  the 
stories,  hey?" 

I  nodded  my  head  vigorously.  I  knew  it  was 
going  to  be  interesting,  and  I  was  almost  afraid  to 
speak. 

"Well,  you  Know,  my  dear,"  he  went  on  again, 
"  I  am  writing  The  Book  of  Fales,  because  when  I 
die  the  old  tales  will  be  lost  if  I  don't  put  them 
down.  Your  father  and  grandfather  learned  them, 
as  I  did,  by  word  of  mouth;  but  it  is  time  they 
were  written  out  for  those  who  come  after  us. 
44 


THE    SECRET    ROOM 

And  where  do  you  think  I  am  writing  it  ?  At  the 
same  desk  that  General  Washington  used  when  he 
visited  Fales !  Every  one  has  heard  that  he  went 
there  quite  often.  We  have  a  'Washington  Room' 
that  he  occupied  on  public  occasions;  but  there  is 
a  secret  place,  and  you  must  note  carefully  what  I 
tell  you  about  it,  because  no  one  else  knows  of  it. 
Just  off  my  study  there  is  a  small  room  with  one 
window  in  it,  but  this  is  so  nicely  arranged  that, 
from  the  outside,  it  looks  to  be  a  part  of  the  window 
in  my  study,  and  you  would  never  suspect  that 
there  were  really  two  rooms.  There  is  no  door 
to  this  little  room,  so  from  the  inside  you  could 
never  guess  that  it  existed,  though  once  you  were 
in  you  would  find  it  very  comfortable." 

"But,  grandfather,"  I  exclaimed,  quite  excited, 
"how  do  you  get  in  ?" 

"Ah,  my  dear,  that's  the  secret.  And  I  am 
the  only  one  who  knows  it.  Now  I  shall  tell  you. 
In  my  study  there  is  a  high  wainscot  carved  and 
painted  white.  If  you  should  look  carefully  at  ail 
the  walls  you  would  find  garlands  of  many  kinds 
of  flowers  cut  out  of  the  wood,  but  among  these 
there  is  only  one  rose.  If  you  reach  up  and  turn 
the  rose  twice  to  the  left,  twice  to  the  right,  and 
once  again  to  the  left,  a  door  will  open  in  the  pan- 
elling. That  is  the  secret  of  Fales,  my  dear — first 
the  rose,  then  two  turns  to  the  left,  two  turns  to  the 
right,and  one  again  to  the  left.  Will  you  remember  ?" 
45 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

"Oh  yes!"  I  said,  drawing  a  long  breath,  for 
a  secret  room  seemed  made  for  Mystery  and 
Romance. 

"When  General  Washington  came  to  Phila- 
delphia privately,"  great-grandfather  went  on, 
"he  would  send  a  single  rose  to  my  grandfather, 
and  the  little  room  would  be  made  ready  for  him. 
I  believe  he  was  not  a  man  who  often  jested,  but 
he  thought  it  a  fine  joke  to  talk  to  my  grandfather 
of  what  they  did  'under  the  rose/  You  know 
that  is  an  expression  which  is  used  to  mean  'in 
secret,'  and  in  this  case  it  also  signified  under  the 
rose  in  the  carving.  Some  day  you  will  read  in 
The  Book  of  F ales  how  great  a  part  this  little  room 
played  in  the  history  of  our  country,  but  I  wanted 
you  to  know  of  its  existence  from  me." 

"Oh,  it  is  most  interesting,  grandfather!"  I  said. 
"Mother  never  told  me  a  word  about  it." 

"Your  mother  doesn't  know  of  it,  my  dear," 
he  replied.  "Only  you  and  I.  It  is  a  secret  never 
known  to  more  than  one  or  two  in  the  family, 
although  there  are  written  directions  always  left 
for  the  heir  in  a  sealed  envelope  in  case  he  never 
has  been  taught.  Some  day,  perhaps,  I'll  tell  you 
how,  once  upon  a  time,  the  secret  was  lost,  and  how 
it  was  found  again." 

(And  that  is  how  I  learned  of  the  hidden  room 
at  Fales;  and  although  you  may  think  I  have  told 
the  secret,  no  one  could  find  it,  because  I  haven't 
46 


THE    SECRET    ROOM 

put  down  all  that  great-grandfather  told  me,  and 
am  keeping  the  most  important  part  to  myself. 
Also,  it  isn't  really  near  the  study.) 

This  was  the  first  of  many  talks  we  had  together 
about  Fales,  and,  as  I  said  before,  repeating  all 
these  things  to  mother  helped  to  fix  them  in  my 
memory,  but  some  of  the  big  words  had  to  be 
explained.  And  of  course,  you  know,  mother  is 
helping  me  a  lot  with  this  story,  so  what  I  forget 
she  remembers. 

A  day  or  two  after  this  long  talk  with  great- 
grandfather in  the  Square  he  wrote  a  letter  to 
mother  which  I  know  pleased  her  very,  very  much. 
Here  is  a  copy  of  it: 

"My  DEAR  GRANDSON'S  WIFE, — It  is  hard  for  an 
old  man  to  say  that  he  was  in  the  wrong.  Perhaps  it  is 
harder  for  him  to  feel  himself  so.  I  have  gotten  so  far 
that  I  wonder  if  I  did  not  make  a  serious  mistake  years 
ago.  John  Fales  is  a  gentleman,  and  I  am  proud  if  I 
have  won  a  little  affection  from  her.  She  may,  perhaps, 
have  told  you  that  I  am  to  share  in  her  to  the  extent  of 
'father's  part.'  Can  you  allow  me  a  small  share  in 
your  responsibilities  ?  I  would  like  to  provide  the  money 
for  her  education,  and  will  appreciate  your  generosity 
if  you  can  bring  yourself  to  permit  it. 

"Yours  faithfully,  JOHN  FALES." 

I  remember  that  mother  sat  quite  still  for  a  long 
time  after  she  had  read  the  letter,  and  for  a  minute 
I  thought  there  were  tears  in  her  eyes. 

47 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

As  she  went  over  to  her  desk  she  stooped  and 
kissed  me. 

"This  is  a  very  happy  day,  dearie,"  she  said. 
Mother's  reply  to  the  letter  read : 

"I  shall  be  very  glad  if  time  convinces  you  of  the 
truth — namely,  that  I  had  no  intention  of  deceiving  you. 
I  have  saved  all  that  is  necessary  to  educate  John  suit- 
ably; but  I  know  your  offer  was  prompted  by  love  for 
her,  and  I  accept  it  in  the  spirit  in  which  it  was  made. 
If  you  ever  wish  to  make  suggestions  as  to  her  training 
you  can  write,  and  I  will  seriously  consider  all  you  say. 
"Sincerely, 

"MARION  GRANGE  FALES." 


VIII 

I    FIND   MYSELF 

DURING  this  year  I  saw  Jackie  Fales  quite 
often,  and  by  the  time  summer  had  come 
we  were  really  very  good  friends,  though  I  must 
own  we  quarrelled  a  lot  in  those  days.  We  played 
in  the  Square  together,  and  I  remember  when  we 
first  met  after  our  return  from  Europe. 

"Why,  hello!"  he  said.  "When  did  you  leave 
Tangier  ?" 

"Soon  after  you  did,"  I  replied.  "I  was  aw- 
fully sorry  to  go,  but  I  had  to  be  home  in  time  for 
school." 

"Well,  I  can't  see  what  you  liked  in  that  old 
place,"  he  began.  "I  came  back  in  the  very 
next  boat.  Mamma  was  so  scared  that  day  I 
saw  you  that  she  couldn't  get  me  away  fast  enough. 
And  Yusef  frightened  her  'most  to  death,  he  was 
such  a  fierce-looking  chap.  Mother  always  thinks 
some  one  is  going  to  kidnap  me.  She  intended  to 
write  to  your  mother  and  warn  her  about  Yusef, 
but  we  didn't  know  your  name,  and,  besides,  we 
decided  there  wasn't  any  danger  'cause  you  were 
49 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

a  girl,  and  not  of  the  same  importance  as  I 
am." 

"Oh,  indeed!"  I  answered,  not  liking  his  supe- 
rior manner.  "Why  are  you  so  'specially  valuable, 
I'd  like  to  know  ?  Girls  are  just  as  good  as  boys, 
anyway.  Why,  I've  seen  a  queen  who  was  always 
a  queen — when  she  wasn't  any  older  than  I  am." 

"Huh!  I  know  who  you  mean,  the  Queen  of 
Holland!"  he  returned,  disdainfully.  "You  can't 
tell  me  any  more;  but  there  are  lots  of  kings,  and 
whoever  heard  of  a  girl  President  ?  Besides,  I'm 
an  only  child,  and  my  father  is  very  rich." 

"Have  you  a  father?"  I  asked,  much  surprised, 
because  he  had  never  mentioned  him  before,  and 
I  imagined  he  only  had  a  mother,  just  as  I  have. 

"Of  course  I  have  a  father,"  Jackie  answered, 
"and  some  day  I  will  have  all  his  money,  and  my 
old  cousin,  who  is  very  rich  too,  is  going  to  leave 
me  all  he  has;  so  you  can  understand  that  if  any  one 
stole  me  they  would  pay  lots  and  lots  to  get  me 
back  again.  That's  why  mamma  is  so  anxious 
always." 

Later,  when  I  told  mother  this,  she  looked  very 
grave,  and  murmured,  more  to  herself  than  to 
me: 

"So  that  is  the  price  she  pays!  I  wonder  if  it 
is  worth  it.  I  don't  believe  even  the  Fales  estate 
would  repay  such  a  life  of  constant  anxiety." 

I  didn't  understand  then  what  mother  meant, 
50 


I    FIND    MYSELF 

and  when  I  asked  her  to  explain,  she  laughed  and 
said: 

"I've  decided,  dearie,  that,  after  all,  I  like  to  be 
a  pauper."  And  as  I  didn't  know  what  a  "pauper" 
was,that  answer  didn't  seem  altogether  satisfactory. 

Except  when  he  was  talking  about  himself  and 
how  precious  he  was,  I  must  acknowledge  I  always 
liked  Jackie  Fales.  He  was  really  very  generous, 
and  wanted  you  to  share  his  toys.  Then,  too,  he 
was  fair  when  we  played  games  together,  and  didn't 
try  to  cheat  like  many  children  did.  But  he  wasn't 
like  other  boys  then.  He  preferred  to  stay  with 
the  girls  instead  of  romping  around,  and  I  couldn't 
help  thinking  that  if  my  nurse  bothered  me  every 
minute  to  keep  my  coat  buttoned  or  my  scarf 
about  my  throat,  or  some  other  thing,  as  his  did,  I 
would  give  up  trying  to  have  any  fun  and  just  sit 
on  a  bench  and  never  move,  like  Rita  Norris,  who, 
to  this  day,  thinks  more  of  her  clothes  than  any- 
thing else. 

It  seems  rather  strange  that,  for  the  longest  while, 
Jackie  never  knew  what  my  name  was.  One 
reason  for  this  was  that  his  nurse  was  German 
and  mine  was  French,  so  they  hadn't  much  to  say 
to  each  other.  Then  he  had  begun  calling  me 
just  "Girl,"  and  he  was  quite  satisfied  with  that; 
so,  knowing  that  we  each  had  the  same  name,  I 
thought  I  would  wait  for  a  good  chance  to  surprise 
him. 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

As  it  turned  out  this  caused  a  lot  of  funny  mis- 
understanding between  us,  because  at  that  time 
there  were  a  number  of  things  mother  had  thought 
it  wiser  not  to  talk  to  me  about,  and  I  was  really 
ignorant  of  much  I  have  already  written. 

I  suppose  it  was  because  I  hadn't  any  father 
of  my  own  that  I  was  interested  in  Jackie's. 
He  always  talked  of  the  places  to  which  he  had 
been  "alone  with  mamma,"  so  one  day  I  asked 
him  if  his  father  never  went  with  them. 

"No,"  said  Jackie;  "he  don't  like  gadding  about 
with  a  pack  of  women.  He's  awfully  rich,  you 
know,  and  it  keeps  him  busy  'most  all  day  taking 
care  of  his  money;  and  at  night  he  generally  goes 
to  his  club,  so  he  hasn't  time  to  travel  with  us. 
Sometimes  he  comes  down  to  Newport  for  a  while 
in  the  summer,  when  it  is  very  hot." 

"But  doesn't  he  ever  play  with  you  ?"  I  asked. 

"Not  often;  he's  too  busy,"  Jackie  replied. 

"Well,  I'm  glad  mother  isn't  too  busy  to  play 
with  me,"  I  said.  "I  can  have  more  fun  with  her 
than  anybody." 

"  Mamma  is  too  much  afraid  I'll  be  hurt  to  play 
with  me,"  Jackie  went  on,  rather  wofully.  "She's 
always  thinking  of  what  will  become  of  all  papa's 
money  and  all  Cousin  John's  money  if  I  should  die, 
or  be  lost  like  Charlie  Ross.  Why,  only  last  night 
they  were  talking,  and  papa  said  it  was  time  I  was 
given  riding  and  driving  lessons  and  was  learning 
52 


I    FIND    MYSELF 

to  swim.  I  hoped  they'd  let  me;  but  mamma  said 
at  once,  'Suppose  something  should  happen  to  him  ?' 
which  seems  to  be  the  thing  she  is  always  thinking." 

"And  what  did  your  father  sav  to  that  ?"  I  asked, 
for  I  was  curious. 

"Oh,  he  said  he  wasn't  going  to  suppose  any- 
thing of  the  kind,"  Jackie  continued;  "that 
mamma  did  enough  worrying  for  both  of  them; 
and  that  I  would  have  to  take  my  chances  like 
other  boys.  But  that  didn't  satisfy  mamma; 
she  has  to  keep  bothering  about  my  getting  the 
Fales  estate.  Papa  tells  her  not  to  set  her  heart 
on  that,  'cause  she  doesn't  know  what  may  happen 
before  Cousin  John  dies." 

"What  have  you  to  do  with  Fales  ?"  I  asked, 
yery  much  interested. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know  all  about  it,"  Jackie  an- 
swered. "Mamma  seems  to  think  maybe  Cousin 
John  won't  leave  it  to  me,  after  all.  She  said 
to  papa,  'I  hear  that  John  Fales  is  actually  in- 
fatuated with  the  other  heir,  that  he's  quite  childish 
about  her,  and  repeats  the  things  she  says  like  a 
doting  parent.'  And  that  surprised  papa,  for  he 
told  her  he  didn't  know  they  saw  each  other  at 
all,  and  that  he  understood  they  were  still  in  Europe. 
Mamma  said  they  had  come  back  long  ago,  and 
that  Cousin  John  saw  the  girl  in  the  Square,  and 
was  simply  foolish  over  her.  You  know,  he's  the 
old  gentleman  you  so  often  talk  to." 
53 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

"Yes,  but  I  want  to  know  about  this  other  girl, 
Jackie.  What's  she  like  ?"  I  asked. 

"Mamma  says  she's  a  handsome,  dark  child 
like  all  her  family,  and  that's  what  makes  Cousin 
John  admire  her.  I've  never  seen  her,  but  there's 
no  use  saying  anything  to  mamma.  One  day  she 
thinks  I'll  get  it,  and  the  next  day  she's  sure  I 
won't.  She  talks  so  much  about  it  that  papa  gets 
quite  tired  and  cross.  He  said  I'd  be  better  off 
without  the  money,  and  that  he  had  enough  to  spoil 
two  or  three  boys.  But  mamma  is  set  on  Fales, 
and  she  is  certainly  worried  about  this  girl  who, 
she  says,  Cousin  John  spends  all  his  time  in  the 
Square  with." 

"Well,"  I  began,  positively,  "I  can  tell  your 
mamma  that  it's  all  a  made-up  story  about  that 
other  girl.  Why,  I'm  with  him  myself  'most  every 
time  he  comes  here!  We're  great  friends,  and  if 
there  was  any  one  else  he  talked  a  lot  to  I  certainly 
would  have  seen  her  sometimes." 

"Now,  I  say,"  Jackie  exclaimed,  "I've  got  an 
idea!  I've  always  wanted  to  see  that  girl  myself. 
You  know,  she's  the  one  who  would  have  all  the 
Fales  money  if  she'd  only  been  a  boy,  so  you  keep 
a  sharp  watch  for  her.  Mamma's  so  certain  of  it 
that  there  must  be  somebody,  and  sooner  or  later 
you'll  see  her,  and  then  you  can  point  her  out  to 
me." 

Of  course,  I  promised  to  tell  Jackie  the  minute 
54 


I    FIND    MYSELF 

I  found  this  mysterious  girl.  You  can  under- 
stand that  I  was  curious  myself,  for  I  didn't  see 
how  great-grandfather  could  be  very  intimate  with 
any  one  in  the  Square  without  my  knowing  it.  So 
I  kept  a  sharp  lookout,  but  the  days  went  by  and  I 
never  saw  her. 

Jackie  always  asked  me  about  her  every  time 
we  met,  and  at  last  one  day  I  said  to  him: 

"Jackie,  do  you  know  what  this  girl's  name  is  ?" 

"Why,  sure.  It's  the  same  as  mine — John 
Fales,"  he  answered.  I  hadn't  time  to  piece  things 
together  then.  I  only  thought  how  funny,  how 
awfully  funny,  it  was  for  me  to  be  trying  to  find 
myself,  and  I  laughed  till  the  tears  ran  down  my 
cheeks. 

"I  don't  know  what  you're  laughing  at  so  hard," 
said  Jackie,  huffily.  "Is  this  girl  such  a  funny 
person  ?" 

"Oh,  Jackie,"  I  cried,  "don't  be  cross!  It's 
me!  I  am  John  Fales!" 

For  a  moment  or  two  we  just  stood  looking  at 
each  other  without  a  word. 

"Honest  Injin,  are  you  really  John  Fales?" 
Jackie  asked,  at  last.  I  nodded. 

"And  did  you  know  it  all  the  time  ?"  he  demanded. 

"No,  Jackie,  I  didn't  till  this  minute,"  I  told 
him.  "You  see,  you  mixed  things  up  so.  I  never 
lost  millions  and  millions  of  dollars.  I  never  had 
them  to  lose." 

5  55 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

"Yes,  you  did,"  Jackie  insisted — "at  least,  if 
you  had  been  a  boy  Cousin  John  would  have 
given  you  all  his  money,  but  now  I'm  to  have  it. 
Didn't  your  mother  ever  tell  you  that  ?  Mamma 
talks  about  it  all  the  time." 

"Mother  told  me,"  I  explained,  "that  perhaps 
if  I  had  been  a  boy  I  might  have  had  Fales,  but 
there  was  never  a  word  of  money." 

"Well,  it's  true,  all  the  same,"  Jackie  insisted. 
"There  can't  be  any  mistake  if  you  are  really  John 
Fales.  But  mamma  said  she  was  a  handsome  girl. 
Here,  let's  look  at  you!"  And  he  stepped  in  front 
of  me  and  stared  as  if  he'd  never  seen  me  before. 

"Huh!"  he  grunted,  after  a  while.  "I  don't 
think  you're  very  handsome.  You  haven't  nice 
round  eyes  like  Rita  Norris."  He  said  this  in  such 
a  scornful  way  that  it  quite  hurt  my  feelings  and 
made  me  a  little  angry. 

"If  you  like  Rita  Norris  so  much  you'd  better 
go  right  away  and  play  with  her,"  I  retorted. 
"You'll  find  her  sitting  on  a  bench  beside  her  nurse, 
so  she  won't  muss  her  clothes,"  and  I  started  to 
leave  him. 

"Hold  on!"  cried  Jackie,  calmly,  grabbing  me 
by  the  arm.  "I  don't  know  whether  mamma  will 
let  me  play  with  you  when  she  finds  out  you  are 
John  Fales.  Perhaps  if  you  promise  not  to  talk  to 
Cousin  John  any  more — " 

"Indeed  I'll  promise  no  such  thing,"  I  answered, 
56 


I    FIND    MYSELF 

shaking  myself  free  from  him.     "There  are  lots  of 
other  children  I  can  play  with." 

"  But  suppose  I  order  you  not  to  speak  to  him  ? 
He's  my  cousin,  you  know." 

"You  order  me  not  to  speak  to  him!"  I  fairly 
gasped.  "Why,  you  are  hardly  any  relation  to  him 
at  all,  while  he  is  my  very  own  great-grandfather!" 

That  was  the  second  big  surprise  for  Jackie 
that  day. 

"Honest  and  true;  cross  your  heart?"  he  ex- 
claimed. "Say,  I  never  knew  that  before.  Why, 
I  should  think  he  ought  to  leave  you  his  money 
instead  of  me.  It  doesn't  seem  fair  not  to,"  and 
Jackie  was  good-natured  and  sympathetic  in  a 
minute.  But  that  was  always  his  way;  just  when 
a  most  promising  quarrel  was  started  he  would 
suddenly  think  of  something  else  and  forget  all 
about  it. 

Of  course,  I  had  a  lot  of  questions  to  ask  mother 
that  afternoon,  and  she  was  very  patient  explain- 
ing everything  to  me,  so  that  from  then  on  I  under- 
stood how  my  being  a  girl  had  mixed  things  up. 
It  did  seem,  too,  as  if  it  was  my  fault  in  some  way, 
though  I  couldn't  see  how,  and  I  might  have  been 
unhappy  if  mother  hadn't  taken  me  in  her  arms 
and  comforted  me,  like  mothers  can,  by  saying  she 
would  rather  have  me  than  any  boy  she  ever  heard 
of,  and  that  money  was  a  small  matter  when  people 
loved  each  other  as  much  as  we  did. 
57 


IX 

COUSIN   MARIA 

VERY  shortly  after  this  great-grandfather 
found  Jackie  and  me  playing  together,  and 
from  that  day  on  we  three  would  often  walk 
slowly  to  and  fro  in  the  Square  talking,  until  it 
was  time  for  great-grandfather  to  start  for  Fales. 
He  was  very  much  interested  in  Jackie,  and  one 
day  I  remember  his  saying: 

"Are  you  going  to  school  regularly,  young  man  ?" 

Jackie  got  very  red.  "Yes,  sir,"  he  answered, 
"except  of  course  when  the  weather  is  bad,  or  I 
have  a  headache  or  a  cold,  or  mamma  thinks  I 
look  pale/' 

I  never  heard  great-grandfather  speak  so  sharp- 
ly as  he  did  then. 

"Come,  come,  sir!  Be  a  man!"  he  said. 
"Don't  hide  behind  a  woman's  skirts  in  that 
fashion.  Bless  me!  your  mamma  would  let  you 
go  fast  enough  if  you  wanted  to.  You  are  the  one 
who  will  suffer,  sir,  if  you  don't  keep  up  with  the 
boys  of  your  own  age." 

I  felt  very  sorry  for  Jackie;  though  I  knew,  of 
58 


COUSIN    MARIA 

course,  that  great-grandfather  was  quite  right,  as 
he  always  was.  It  made  Jackie  very  uncomfort- 
able, too,  for  presently  he  ran  off  to  his  nurse 
and  left  us  together. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  that  boy,  John  Fales  ?" 
great-grandfather  asked  me,  suddenly. 

"Well,  sir,  I  think  he's  spoiled,"  I  answered. 
"Perhaps  it  isn't  his  fault;  that  is — of  course,  some 
of  it  is  his  fault — but  I'm  sure  his  mamma  lets  him 
do  just  as  he  likes  and  he  takes  a'vantage.  I  have 
to  be  very  careful  not  to  take  a'vantage  of  mother, 
so  I  know  how  it  feels." 

"  Bless  me !  You  know  how  it  feels,  do  you  ?" 
great-grandfather  laughed.  "Well,  perhaps  there 
is  some  excuse  for  his  mamma,  after  all.  Jackie 
was  a  delicate  baby,  you  know,  and  even  now  that 
he  is  quite  strong  she  can't  get  over  the  idea  that 
he's  bound  to  die." 

"But  it  spoils  all  his  fun,  grandfather,"  I  said, 
earnestly.  "He  can't  do  this  and  he  can't  do 
that,  for  fear  he'll  get  hurt.  He  begged  to  go 
skating  with  me;  but,  no  indeed!  his  mamma  was 
afraid  the  ice  would  break  and  he'd  be  drowned 
or  else  he'd  tumble  down  and  be  a  cripple  for  life. 
His  father  wanted  to  have  him  taught  to  ride,  but 
of  course  that  was  too  dangerous,  though  I'm 
learning — and  I'm  just  as  only-a-child  as  he  is. 
The  only  single,  solitary  thing  he's  allowed  to  do 
that  the  rest  of  us  children  do  is  to  go  to  dancing- 
59 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

school — and  most  boys  hate  that!  1  think  it  must 
be  hard  luck  to  be  so  precious." 

"'Hard  luck  to  be  so  precious,'"  great-grand- 
father repeated.  "Bless  me!  you're  quite  right! 
The  boy  doesn't  have  a  chance.  But  what  can 
we  do  about  it  ?" 

"I  don't  know,"  I  said,  thoughtfully.  "He'd  be 
all  right  if  they'd  let  him  alone.  What  he  needs 
is  to  play  with  boys  —  football,  and  hard  things 
like  that.  Here  in  the  Square  he's  always  with 
babies  or  girls.  Maybe  a  boarding-school  would 
help,"  I  ended,  hesitatingly,  because,  of  course,  I 
didn't  know  anything  about  it.  To  my  surprise 
great-grandfather  seemed  delighted  with  the  sug- 
gestion. 

"  Bless  me !  I  think  you've  hit  it !"  he  exclaimed. 
"It's  the  very  place  for  him.  It  won't  take  a 
parcel  of  boys  long  to  knock  the  nonsense  out  of 
him.  But  he's  pretty  young  yet,  and  his  mamma 
will  worry  herself  sick  at  first.  You  see,  being  a 
boy,  his  life  is  important." 

"Yes,  I  suppose  it  is,"  I  said.  "Jackie  takes 
a  lot  of  credit  to  himself  because  he  is  a  boy.  He's 
always  talking  about  it,  proud  as  can  be." 

"Indeed!"  said  great-grandfather,  quite  inter- 
ested. 

"Yes,  but  for  my  part  I  really  can't  see  why 
girls  are  blamed  so  much  for  being  girls,"  I  went 
on,  earnestly.  "It  has  always  been  a  comfort  to 
60 


"WHAT  DO  YOU  THINK  OF  THAT  BOY,  JOHN  FALES?"  GREAT-GRANDFATHER 
ASKED  ME,  SUDDENLY 


COUSIN    MARIA 

me  that  mother  didn't  know  I  was  a  girl  till  I  was 
nearly  five  weeks  old,  because,  if  she  had,  I  would 
have  felt  that  it  was  my  fault  she  was  so  awfully 
sick;  but  so  long  as  she  thought  I  was  a  boy,  I 
know  I'm  not  to  blame." 

"So  your  mother  never  knew  you  were  a  girl 
for  five  weeks  ?"  said  great-grandfather,  thought- 
fully. "You  always  give  me  something  to  think 
about,  John  Fales,"  he  added. 

"Oh,  she's  gotten  used  to  me  now,  you  know," 
I  went  on,  hastily.  "She  says  she  wouldn't  ex- 
change me  for  the  nicest  boy  she  ever  saw.  Of 
course,  I  can  see  that  a  boy  might  be  usefuller  when 
he  grew  up,  but  there  are  lots  of  things  I  can  do 
for  her  even  now,  and  mother  says  that  neither 
of  us  are  the  helpless  kind  of  women,  so  we 
manage  very  well,  and  each  looks  out  for  the 
other." 

"Not  the  helpless  sort  of  women,  hey!  Bless 
me!  I  think  not!"  said  great-grandfather,  heart- 
ily. "No,  you'd  never  be  that,  John  Fales.  Boy 
or  girl,  you  are  too  much  of  a  Fales  to  be  the  help- 
less kind."  Then,  seeing  the  carriage  for  the  first 
time,  he  pulled  out  his  watch  and  rose  to  his  feet. 
"Good-bye,  my  dear,  I'll  see  you  the  day  after 
to-morrow."  He  waved  his  hand  to  me  as  he 
drove  off,  and  I  went  back  to  Marie. 

There  was  a  surprise  in  store  for  me  when  I  got 
home  that  afternoon.  Mother  had  a  visitor,  and 
61 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

she  called  me  in  at  once,  introducing  me  to  a  very 
gorgeously  dressed  lady. 

"This  is  your  Cousin  Maria,  dear,  Jackie 
Fales's  mamma,"  said  mother. 

I  held  out  my  hand  and  tried  to  be  as  polite  as 
I  knew  how;  but  I  was  curious,  for  I  saw  at  once 
that  it  was  Cousin  Maria  who  had  stared  so  hard 
at  me  on  the  steps  of  Holy  Trinity  Church  on 
Easter  Sunday. 

Of  course,  mother  had  taught  me  that  it  was 
best  to  be  quiet  and  not  interrupt  when  grown- 
ups were  visiting;  so  I  sat  down  meaning  to  be 
very  good  indeed,  for  somehow  I  felt  that  Cousin 
Maria  would  have  been  glad  to  find  me  other- 
wise. 

Mother  and  she  talked,  but  I  noticed  that  Cousin 
Maria  was  always  trying  to  bring  the  conversation 
around  to  us  and  what  I  was  doing,  though  mother 
did  her  best  to  keep  to  politenesses  like  going  to 
Europe  and  such  things. 

Finally  Cousin  Maria  remarked  how  " precious" 
Jackie  was,  and  mother  said,  very  gently: 

"Yes,  every  child  is  precious  to  its  mother.'* 

"Ah,  my  dear,"  Cousin  Maria  exclaimed,  "you 
cannot  appreciate,  with  your  robust  girl,  the  care 
and  watchfulness  required  to  bring  up  a  boy  of 
Jackie's  high-strung  temperament  and  refined  or- 
ganization." 

Now  Jackie  was  my  friend,  and  it  didn't  seem 
62 


COUSIN    MARIA 

fair  to  have  even  his  mother  misrepresent  him  that 
way;  so,  without  thinking,  I  burst  out: 

"Oh,  Cousin  Maria,  Jackie  isn't  as  bad  as  that! 
He's  a  little  girly,  I  know,  but  he's  trying  to  get 
over  it,  truly  he  is.  Why,  he  said  the  other  day 
he  thought  he'd  enjoy  being  a  doctor  and  cutting 
people  up,  while  before  that  he  was  going  to  be  a 
policeman  'cause  it  was  so  safe.  I  think  that 
shows  he's  improving." 

"A  doctor!"  Cousin  Maria  exclaimed.  "Oh, 
I  couldn't  think  of  it.  It's  a  most  dangerous  pro- 
fession, and  he'd  be  sure  to  get  blood-poisoning! 
But  children  are  so  droll  in  their  notions.  Fancy 
a  Fales  a  policeman." 

"Grandfather  says  a  man  need  not  be  ashamed 
to  do  any  hon'rable  work,"  I  said,  with  much 
pride,  though  I  wasn't  very  sure  what  it  meant. 

"I  have  heard  you  were  a  great  deal  with  Mr. 
Fales,"  Cousin  Maria  said  to  me. 

"Not  very  much.  Only  an  hour  or  so  every 
other  day,"  I  replied. 

"I  call  that  a  great  deal,"  returned  Cousin 
Maria. 

"Maybe  it  would  be  for  you,  but,  you  see,  it's 
different  with  us,"  I  explained.  "Grandfather  and 
I  have  so  much  in  common.  He's  my  friend,  you 
know,  and  he's  telling  me  all  about  the  house  of 
Fales  just  like  he  told  father." 

"Is  he,  indeed!"  said  Cousin  Maria,  looking  at 
63 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

me  through  her  lorgnette.  "I  think  it  would  be 
nice  for  Jackie  to  know  that,  too,  as  it  is  the  home 
of  his  ancestors,  and,  of  course,  will  be  his  some 
day." 

"Oh,  he  doesn't  care  anything  about  it,"  I 
went  on.  "He  says  its  terribly  old-fashioned  and 
unstylish.  But  then  it  really  isn't  his  old  family 
home,  as  it  is  mine.  Grandfather  says  Jackie 
comes  of  a  younger  branch,  who  left  England  later 
and  had  nothing  at  all  to  do  with  Fales." 

Cousin  Maria  got  up  to  go,  remarking  as  she 
walked  toward  the  door: 

"Such  knowledge  of  genealogy  is  quite  re- 
markable, especially  in  a  child  I  understood  was 
curiously  backward.  It  speaks  well  for  your 
mother's  teaching." 

Although  I  didn't  understand  much  of  this,  I 
did  see  that  she  was  mistaken  in  thinking  that 
mother  had  told  me  about  Fales,  and  I  felt  that 
great-grandfather  ought  to  have  the  credit  of  it, 
so  I  hastened  to  explain: 

"Oh  no,  Cousin  Maria,  mother  doesn't  know 
half  as  much  about  Fales  as  I  do.  Grandfather 
is  the  one;  and  he  is  never  tired  of  telling  me  over 
and  over  again  till  I  get  things  straight.  He  says 
I  remember  very  well;  but  I  think  it's  because  he 
tells  it  so  interestingly;  and  then,  of  course,  it  is  all 
about  our  family,  which  makes  it  important  to 
MS.  Grandfather  said  the  other  day  that  soon  I 
64 


COUSIN    MARIA 

would  know  as  much  as  he  did  of  The  Book  of 
Fales." 

I  couldn't  guess  why  Cousin  Maria  didn't  seem 
much  pleased,  and  when  she  was  gone  mother 
looked  at  me,  pretending  to  be  very  severe,  though 
I  knew  she  wasn't. 

"Did  you  ever  hear  that  a  child  should  be  seen 
and  not  heard  ?"  she  asked. 

"Yes;  but,  mother,"  I  said,  "Cousin  Maria 
wasn't  fair  to  Jackie,  and  she  did  want  to  know 
things.  I  just  told  her  the  truth,  and  that  oughtn't 
to  'fend  anybody." 

When  I  told  great  -  grandfather  about  Cousin 
Maria's  visit  he  laughed  a  lot  and  seemed  in- 
terested, though  he  didn't  say  much.  While  we 
were  talking  Jackie  came  up  and  said  to  me: 

"What  did  you  do  to  make  mamma  so  cross 
the  other  day?  She  came  home  and  scolded  me 
awfully  for  being  like  a  girl.  I  can't  help  being  a 
softy  if  I  am  never  to  be  allowed  to  play  with  boys. 
Why,  if  I  get  a  toe  wet  mother  howls  about  my 
precious  life  —  and  then  she  scolds  me  for  not 
being  manly.  It's  all  her  fault,  and  I  told  her  so!" 

"Tut,  tut,  tut!  Don't  talk  about  your  mother 
in  that  way,  sir!"  great-grandfather  said,  sharply. 

"But,  sir,"  faltered  Jackie,  "how  can  I  ever 
be  a  man  if  I'm  broiight  up  to  be  afraid  of  bats, 
and  bugs,  and  mud,  and  guns,  and  boats,  and 
damp  feet?" 

65 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

"Bless  me!  I  don't  know,"  great-grandfather 
admitted.  "All  the  same,  you  must  remember 
your  mother  is  doing  what  she  thinks  is  best  for 
you,  and  you  must  not  blame  her  for  anything. 
Do  you  understand  that,  sir  ?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Jackie,  humbly. 

"Well,  then,"  great-grandfather  went  on,  "I 
have  some  news  for  you.  We  didn't  intend  you 
should  know  yet,  but  it  won't  do  any  harm  to  tell 
you  now.  I  saw  your  father  yesterday,  and  he  has 
decided  to  send  you  to  boarding-school  next  year." 

"Honest  Injin  ?"  exclaimed  Jackie,  very  much 
delighted  at  the  prospect. 

"Yes,  honest  Injin,"  said  great  -  grandfather, 
with  a  smile;  and  then  he  added,  seriously/* Don't 
you  be  discouraged,  Jack;  we'll  make  a  man  of 
you  yet,  and — you  can  thank  John  Fales  for  it." 


VISITORS 

THE  next  three  years  passed  quickly.  They 
were  very  happy,  and  I  was  always  busy  with 
something  or  other,  although  there  is  not  much 
of  any  importance  to  tell.  No  one  but  a  girl's 
mother  cares  to  hear  about  school  or  lessons.  I 
might  mention  that  I  studied  music  and  liked  it, 
though  five-finger  exercises  do  grow  tiresome. 

Of  course  I  saw  great-grandfather  in  the  Square 
except  when  mother  and  I  went  to  the  sea-shore 
for  the  summer,  and  then  we  wrote  to  each  other 
regularly. 

Some  of  these  letters  of  mine  I  found  in  great- 
grandfather's desk  in  a  neat  little  pile  labelled, 
"Letters  from  John  Fales,  ten  years  old."  He 
must  have  laughed  over  them,  for  they  were 
queer  and  funny. 

One  of  them  ended:  "Tommy  Tucker  has  a  dog 
called  Tuck,  but  it  is  not  fatheful  like  Max.  It 
does  not  like  to  go  with  him,  and  gaurd  him  from 
harm  when  it  is  hot.  Perhaps  it  is  hard  to  be 
fatheful  when  you  are  fat.  There  were  a  lot  of 
6? 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

gelly-fish  in  bathing  yesterday.  I  thought  I  would 
never  eat  gelly  again,  but  mother  tells  me  it  honest- 
ly isn't  made  from  them.  Did  you  know  that  ?" 
Here  is  one  that  I  remember  pleased  great-grand- 
father very  much:  "I  am  glad  that  you  stay  at 
Fales,  because  it  is  the  best  place  for  you.  I  have 
more  permenent  teeth  than  Sarah  Morris,  but  she 
has  been  vacksinated  oftener  than  I  have  and  has 
had  mumps  and  measels  besides  and  is  very  proud. 
She  likes  to  play  with  dolls,  but  I  don't  unless  it 
rains  and  even  then  I'd  rather  pretend  that  her 
little  brother  was  my  baby.  He  is  warm  and 
smells  nicer  than  dolls.  She  wants  me  to  be  her 
most  intimate  friend,  but  I  say  How  can  I  ?  You 
are  my  most  intimate  friend  and  you  can't  have 
two  mosts,  can  you  ?" 

Always  after  that  we  addressed  each  other  in 
letters  as,  "My  most  intimate  friend." 

Jackie  went  off  to  boarding-school,  and  I  really 
saw  very  little  of  him.  I  met  him  twice  at  chil- 
dren's parties  during  the  Christmas  holidays,  but 
at  the  last  one  he  seemed  so  big  and  changed  that 
I  felt  very  shy,  for  some  reason,  and  wouldn't  have 
anything  to  do  with  him,  though  I  must  say  he  was 
as  nice  as  possible,  and  I  really  liked  him  better 
than  ever. 

It  was  during  this  time  that  my  great-aunts  began 
coming  to  see  us  again. 

Aunt  Martha  was  the  first  to  arrive;  and  I  was 
68 


VISITORS 

alone,  mother  having  gone  shopping  or  something. 
I  was  awfully  glad  to  see  her,  and  I  think  she  must 
have  known  it,  because  she  seemed  very  much 
pleased  when  I  kissed  her.  We  sat  together,  on 
the  little  Chippendale  sofa,  in  our  tiny  reception- 
room,  and  she  held  my  hand  all  the  time,  every 
now  and  then  giving  it  a  gentle  squeeze. 

"John,  dear,"  she  said,  as  she  got  up  to  go,  "I 
am  sorry  not  to  have  seen  your  mother.  I  did 
want  to  explain  to  her,  and  I  don't  know  when  I 
can  come  again.  You  see,  no  one  suspects  that 
I  am  here — and,  John,  dear — I  wouldn't  mention 
it  to  your  grandfather.  But  tell  dear  Marion  I 
called,  and  she  will  understand.  Oh,  my  dear 
child,  why  is  everything  so  different  from  the  way 
it  ought  to  be  ?" 

It  was  but  a  day  or  two  later  that  Aunt  Selina 
came,  and  this  time  mother  was  home. 

"I  just  dropped  in,  Marion,  dear,"  she  said, 
"because  I  felt  you  must  have  misunderstood, 
which  of  course  was  perfectly  natural,  but  I  really 
couldn't  stand  having  you  think  badly  of  us  any 
longer.  The  others  don't  know  I'm  here,  and 
father  must  not  have  any  hint  of  it." 

Then  Aunt  Caroline  paid  us  a  visit  that  the 
"others  didn't  know  about,"  and  finally  Aunt 
Henrietta. 

"We  were  afraid  it  would  only  make  matters 
worse  if  we  seemed  to  oppose  father,"  she  told  us. 
69 


LI  TTLE    MISS    FALES 

"You  understand  that  I  am  here  without  the 
knowledge  of  my  sisters,  and  I  strongly  advise  John 
not  to  mention  the  fact  to  her  grandfather.  But 
it  became  unbearable  to  me  to  think  that  you  did 
not  know  how  entirely  we  sympathized  with  you, 
and  that  we  loved  you  both  very  dearly." 

So  each  had  come  without  the  others  knowing 
it,  and,  once  the  ice  was  broken,  they  continued 
to  call,  one  at  a  time,  until  finally  all  four  met  in 
our  little  reception-room,  and  then  they  laughed 
and  explained,  I  don't  know  how  many  times,  and 
kissed  mother  and  me  and  each  other  again  and 
again;  and,  yes,  there  were  a  few  tears,  but  we 
were  all  very,  very  happy. 


XI 

I    SEE    FALES 

IT  was  just  before  school  opened  at  the  end  of 
these  three  years  I  have  told  of  that  I  first  saw 
Fales. 

We  had  been  to  the  sea-shore,  as  usual,  and 
great-grandfather  and  I  had  corresponded  regu- 
larly. When  it  was  nearly  time  for  us  to  return 
to  Philadelphia,  great-grandfather  wrote  that  he 
wanted  me  to  come  to  Fales,  and  that,  if  I  would 
tell  him  what  day  would  be  convenient  after  we 
got  back,  he  would  send  for  me. 

You  may  be  sure  I  was  eager  to  go.  Of  all 
places  in  the  world,  Fales  was  the  one  I  wanted 
to  see  most;  but  when  the  day  came,  and  the 
carriage  with  the  driver  and  footman  in  livery 
stood  waiting,  it  did  make  me  a  little  unhappy  to 
leave  mother  behind. 

Of  course,  I  knew  about  the  misunderstanding 
between  great-grandfather  and  mother,  and  I  was 
old  enough  to  appreciate  the  cause  of  it;  but  I  did 
wish  something  would  happen  to  bring  them  to- 
gether. It  wouldn't  do  for  me  to  say  anything 

6  .          7I 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

of  this  to  great-grandfather,  and  mother  always 
looked  very  grave  when  I  mentioned  it  to  her,  so 
I  kept  all  these  thoughts  inside,  trying  to  find  some 
way  out. 

However,  there  was  the  carriage  waiting,  and 
everything  was  ready. 

"  Good-bye,  dearie,"  said  mother,  as  she  kissed 
me.  "I  know  you  are  going  to  have  a  splendid 
time,  only  don't  forget  to  take  good  care  of  my 
girl  for  me.'* 

"Oh,  mother!"  I  burst  out  almost  in  tears,  "I 
would  enjoy  it  so  much  more  if  you  were  with 
me.  You  make  things  a  lot  nicer." 

Mother  kissed  me  again,  and  without  another 
word  off  I  went. 

It  was  a  beautiful  morning,  and  by  the  time 
we  reached  Germantown  I  began  to  be  rather  ex- 
cited. We  drove  up  Main  Street,  and  as  one 
after  another  of  the  old  houses  came  in  sight  I 
would  say  to  Marie,  "  Don't  you  suppose  that  is 
it  ?"  but  it  never  was. 

At  last,  however,  I  saw  a  large  white  house 
standing  far  back  from  the  street  almost  hidden 
by  the  trees,  and  I  knew  it  at  once.  There  was 
not  the  slightest  doubt  in  my  mind. 

"Marie,  Marie!"  I  cried,  "there  is  Fales!"  and 
the  next  moment  the  carriage  turned  into  the  long 
drive. 

Great  -  grandfather  was  much  pleased  to  see 
72 


I    SEE    FALES 

me,  and,  of  course,  I  was  more  than  glad  to  see 
him,  though  it  startled  me  at  first  to  notice  how 
feeble  he  had  grown.  Somehow,  before,  I  hadn't 
thought  of  him  as  an  old  man,  but  on  this  day 
it  impressed  me,  for  I  asked  him  at  once  if  he  felt 
well. 

He  evidently  observed  my  anxiety,  for  he  patted 
my  shoulder  reassuringly. 

"I  am  quite  well,  my  dear,  quite  well,  con- 
sidering," he  answered.  "But,  bless  me!  you 
can't  expect  an  old  man  past  eighty  to  be  very 
lively." 

He  laughed  and  seemed  so  cheerful  that  I  thought 
no  more  of  it  for  the  time  being. 

Perhaps  it  is  because  Fales  has  always  been  in 
our  family  that  I  think  it  is  the  nicest  place  there 
is.  One  of  my  great  -  great  -  grandfathers  built 
the  house,  which  looks  like  pictures  of  "Colonial 
Homes  in  Virginia,"  only  bigger.  It  is  all  painted 
white  except  the  shutters,  which  are  green,  and 
there  is  a  wide  porch  with  tall  columns  that  go 
all  the  way  to  the  roof.  There  is  a  broad  lawn  in 
front  that  extends  to  Main  Street,  and  here  you 
will  find  the  most  splendid  trees  in  Germantown. 
I  really  wish  I  could  describe  them  to  you,  they 
are  so  immense  and  look  as  if  they  had  been  there 
always.  Why,  one  of  our  copper-beeches  would 
cut  up  into  five  or  six  of  a  size  I've  known  other 
people  to  brag  about,  and  there  are  some  with 
73 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

branches  that  go  down  to  the  ground,  so  that  a 
child  can  slip  inside  and  make  believe  that  it  is  a 
house  of  her  very  own. 

The  front  of  Fales  is  grand,  but  I  like  the  rear 
better;  it  is  more  homelike  and  pleasant.  Then, 
too,  the  back  of  the  house  is  fascinating.  There 
are  wings  at  each  end  that  form  a  sort  of  court- 
yard between.  This  is  paved  with  bricks  set  in 
queer  patterns,  and  in  the  centre  is  a  big  pool,  fed 
by  living  springs,  from  which  the  water  runs  in  a 
little  stream  down  the  hill  to  fill  the  duck-pond, 
the  ice-pond,  and  the  skating-pond.  The  win- 
dows on  the  first  floor  are  like  doors,  with  small 
panes  of  glass,  and  trained  around  these  on  the 
walls  are  many  sorts  of  fruit-trees  and  vines.  But 
best  of  all  is  the  sun-dial,  high  up  so  that  it  catches 
the  sun  all  day  long,  and  I  would  rather  tell  the 
time  by  that  than  by  any  clock. 

From  this  court-yard  you  can  view  nearly  the 
entire  place,  over  meadows  and  woods  that  are  a 
part  of  the  original  grant  that  was  made  to  our 
family  by  the  Crown.  As  we  stood  on  the  first 
terrace,  great-grandfather  pointed  out  to  me  the 
various  buildings,  the  offices,  the  old  smoke-house, 
the  stables,  conservatories,  and  graperies,  while 
away  below  us  were  the  barns  and  dairies. 

We  could  see  beyond  the  estate  to  a  cluster  of 
houses  like  a  small  village,  and  great-grandfather 
called  my  attention  to  one  with  a  tall  belfry. 
74 


I    SEE    FALES 

"That's  the  school  your  father  attended  be- 
fore he  went  to  college,  John  Fales,"  he  began. 
"Bless  me!  what  a  long  time  ago  that  was,  to  be 
sure,  and  yet  I  can  remember  as  if  it  were  yester- 
day the  master  of  the  school  coming  to  me  about 
your  father." 

"Oh,  please  tell  me  about  it,  grandfather!" 
I  exclaimed. 

"  He  was  a  venturesome  boy,  was  your  father," 
great-grandfather  went  on,  "  but  I  never  knew 
of  his  doing  a  dishonorable  or  mean  action,  and 
as  he  was  always  well  up  in  his  studies,  I  was 
surprised,  for  my  visitor  was  evidently  much 
worried  about  something.  Well,  he  told  me  a 
long  story  about  how  the  boys  in  the  school 
rang  the  bell  when  they  shouldn't,  and  how  it 
had  become  a  custom  for  certain  classes  to  toll 
it  after  some  examination  or  other.  Just  boys' 
fun,  you  know.  But  the  neighbors  had  been  mak- 
ing complaints,  and  strict  orders  had  been  given 
that  this  ringing  of  the  bell  should  be  stopped. 
Now  your  father's  class  was  the  one  to  ring  the 
bell  that  year,  and,  boylike,  they  thought  it  would 
be  a  disgrace  not  to  do  so,  no  matter  what  the  rules 
might  be,  so  they  determined  it  should  be  done." 

"  Of  course  they  would!"  I  put  in. 

Great-grandfather  nodded  and  continued:  "It 
seems  that  it  was  well-nigh  impossible  to  climb 
to  the  belfry  from  the  outside,  as  you  can  see  for 
75 


LITTLE    MISS    PALES 

yourself,  for  there  is  nothing  but  a  lightning-rod 
leading  up  to  it  from  the  roof  of  the  main  building, 
which  joins  it,  so  they  planned  to  fool  the  janitor, 
who  kept  the  keys  of  the  belfry-door,  and  I  have 
no  doubt,  my  dear,  that  your  father  was  the  head 
and  front  of  this  conspiracy.  At  any  rate,  fool 
that  janitor  they  did,  and  your  father  got  into  the 
belfry  without  his  knowing  it,  and  waited  some 
twelve  hours  or  so  till  midnight." 

"Alone  in  the  dark!"  I  shuddered,  delight- 
fully. 

Great-grandfather  laughed.  "Of  course,  the 
whole  fun  of  an  escapade  of  that  kind  is  in  not 
getting  caught,  and,  when  the  time  came,  your 
father  tied  a  long  rope  to  the  bell  and  threw  it 
out  of  the  little  window  to  some  of  his  classmates 
who  were  waiting  below.  Then  he  started  to 
slide  down  the  lightning-rod.  He  was  about 
half-way  down  to  the  roof  of  the  main  building, 
and  the  other  boys,  thinking  he  was  all  right,  started 
the  bell  going.  But  your  father,  my  dear,  suddenly 
began  to  climb  up  again,  inch  by  inch,  which  was 
a  most  foolhardy  and  dangerous  thing  to  do,  for 
it  is  certain  that  if  the  rod  had  broken,  or  he  had 
fallen,  he  would  have  been  killed  outright.  Still, 
he  got  back  safely,  but  he  was  caught,  for  by  the 
time  he  started  down  again  the  master  was  on  the 
ground  and  saw  plainly  by  the  moonlight  who  it 
was." 

76 


I    SEE    FALES 

"  But  why  did  he  go  back  again,  grandfather  ?" 
I  inquired,  breathlessly. 

"That's  just  what  I  asked  his  master,  my 
dear,  and  he  explained  that  your  father,  in  his 
hurry,  had  taken  another  boy's  cap,  which  he 
had  knocked  off  and  left  forgotten  in  the  belfry 
until  he  was  nearly  down.  Then  he  had  gone 
back  for  fear  the  other  youngster  would  be  blamed. 

"And  I  know  what  you  said,  grandfather!"  I 
burst  out. 

"  Hey,  you  know  what  7  said  ?"  he  asked,  with 
a  twinkle  in  his  eye. 

"You  said,  *  Bless  me!  he  was  quite  right! 
He  might  have  gotten  the  other  boy  into  trouble. 
A  Fales  could  not  have  done  less !' " 

"  Bless  me!"  exclaimed  great-grandfather,  laugh- 
ing, "you  are  quite  right,  they  were  the  very  words, 
I  believe;  but  the  master  insisted  that  for  your 
father's  sake  I  should  scold  him  for  his  dis- 
obedience, which  I  did,  and — I  gave  him  a  riding- 
horse  at  the  same  time." 

It  was  after  luncheon  that  I  first  met  William, 
who  was  great-grandfather's  man. 

"This  is  Miss  John,  William,"  said  great-grand- 
father. "I  want  you  to  show  her  the  grounds. 
I  don't  feel  up  to  it  to-day." 

I  had  heard  of  William  all  my  life.     He  had 
been  in  the  family  since  he  was  a  boy,  and  was 
much  more  than  just  a  servant. 
77 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

"I'm  right  glad  to  see  you,  Miss  John,"  he 
said,  as  we  shook  hands,  and  then,  addressing 
great-grandfather,  "I'd  know  her  among  a  mil- 
lion, sir,  as  one  of  our  family — that  is,  sir,  I  mean, 
a  Fales,  sir,  beggin'  your^pardon." 

"Yes,  yes,  William,  she's  all  Fales,  all  Fales," 
great-grandfather  replied,  nodding  his  head. 

"The  very  image  of  you,  sir,"  William  went  on. 
"  It's  in  the  bone,  sir." 

I  remember  my  great  surprise  at  this  remark 
of  William's;  the  idea  of  my  looking  like  such  an 
old  gentleman  as  great-grandfather  seemed  very 
strange,  but  I  know  now  what  he  meant. 

William  took  me  to  the  stables  and  the  green- 
houses, and  to  where  the  doll  soldier  was  buried 
during  the  Revolution,  and  also  to  Max's  grave, 
all  the  while  talking  of  the  "  family." 

"  You've  heard  of  Max,  Miss  John  ?"  he  asked. 

"Yes,  William,  and  wasn't  it  splendid  the  way 
he  brought  help  to  father  ?"  I  said. 

"Ah,  the  fright  we  had  that  day,  Miss  John, 
you'd  never  believe!  Five  livin'  men  to  move 
that  stone,  and  your  father  lyin'  there  pale  as 
death,  miss,  with  never  a  sound  of  complaint  or 
whimperin'  out  of  him.  A  fine,  brave  lad  was 
Master  John,  your  father;  a  brave  lad,  miss,  but 
venturesome,  never  knowin'  fear.  Many's  the 
time  I've  seen  old  Larkin  (the  head  gardener, 
Miss  John)  tryin'  to  keep  him  off  the  skatin'-pond 
78 


I    SEE    FALES 

when  the  ice  was  too  thin.  How  I'd  laugh,  with 
my  heart  in  my  throat,  watch  in'  'em  dodge  each 
other;  your  father  lookin'  for  a  chance,  for  Larkin 
was  spry  them  days,  and  the  old  dog  yelpin'  and 
barkin'  fit  to  wake  the  dead.  And  how  is  your 
mother,  Miss  John  ?"  he  ended,  suddenly. 

"Very  well  indeed,  thank  you,  William,"  I  an- 
swered. 

"Ah,  what  a  weddin'  that  was!"  he  went  on. 
"The  finest  sight  you  could  lay  eyes  to,  Miss  John. 
The  old  house  blazin'  with  lights  from  top  to 
bottom,  and  every  nook  and  cranny  of  it  fair 
filled  with  handsome  women  and  men.  But  of 
all  of  'em,  Miss  John,  arid  I'm  not  denyin'  there 
was  many  beautiful  girls  among  'em,  there  was 
none  could  touch  Miss  Marion,  your  mother;  and 
your  father — ah,  what  a  couple  they  were,  what  a 
couple!" 

It  would  take  a  whole  book  to  describe  Fales, 
and  when  at  last  we  got  back  and  the  carriage  was 
ready  to  take  me  home  again  I  felt  that  I  had  only 
had  a  glimpse  of  it,  for  it  seemed  to  me  that  every 
tree  and  stone  had  some  story  to  tell,  and  the  house 
itself  was  like  a  history. 

Just  before  I  left,  great-grandfather  took  me 
to  his  study,  and  there,  after  a  little  searching,  I 
found  the  rose  that  opened  the  secret  room.  We 
went  in  together,  and  he  showed  me  where  he  kept 
the  cloth  that  he  used  to  clean  the  window,  for  the 
79 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

owner  of  Fales  must  attend  to  that,  and  I  polished 
some  of  the  panes  myself,  though  they  were  quite 
bright  already. 

As  we  came  down  the  broad  mahogany  stair- 
case I  suppose  I  must  have  been  chattering  as 
usual,  for  when  we  reached  the  hall  William, 
who  was  waiting  to  help  me  into  the  carriage, 
looked  at  us  with  a  queer  expression  on  his 
face. 

"  Beg  pardon,  sir,"  he  said  to  great-grandfather, 
"but  it  does  seem  pleasant-like  to  hear  a  child's 
voice  again  in  the  old  house.  It  brings  back  the 
past  days,  sir." 

Great-grandfather  looked  down  at  me  without 
speaking,  just  slowly  moving  his  head  up  and 
down  as  if  he  were  thinking  of  the  past  that 
William  had  reminded  him  of.  Somehow  all 
of  a  sudden  it  came  over  me  how  really 
old  and  frail  he  was,  and  how  much  I  loved 
him. 

"Oh,  grandfather,"  I  cried,  putting  my  arms 
about  him, "  I  do  love  you  so,  and  I  hate  to  leave 
you  here  all  alone!  It's  such  a  big  house  for  just 
one!" 

He  held  me  tightly  for  a  moment  or  two,  and 
then  kissed  me  gently  on  the  forehead. 

"My  dear,"  he  began,  a  little  huskily,  "you 
have  brought  more  sunshine  into  the  house  to-day 
than  we  have  had  for  many  a  long  year;  and,  when 
80 


I    SEE    FALES 

you  go,  you  will  leave  a  very  lonely  old  man  who 
is  beginning  to  feel  the  need  of  something  warm 
about  his  heart.  Good-bye,  my  dear,  good-bye. 
Please  God,  it  will  not  be  long  before  you  are 
back  again." 


XII 

A  JOY  AND   A    SORROW 

ONE  afternoon,  two  days  after  my  glorious 
visit  to  Fales,  I  was  playing  in  the  Square 
when  James,  the  Fales  footman,  came  to  tell  me 
that  great-grandfather  was  in  the  carriage  and 
wished  to  see  me. 

"  I  want  to  drive  you  home  now,  my  dear,"  said 
great-grandfather,  after  we  had  greeted  each  other. 
"  I  have  something  for  you  that  is  too  valuable  to 
run  risks  with.  Tell  your  nurse,  and  hurry  back/' 

When  I  was  in  the  carriage  and  we  had  started, 
great-grandfather  put  a  heavy  box  into  my  lap. 
It  was  quite  large  and  bound  with  metal,  but 
there  seemed  no  way  to  open  it. 

"I  am  an  old  man,  John  Fales,  and  it  is  time 
I  was  setting  my  house  in  order,"  great-grand- 
father began.  "That  box  is  yours — I  want  you  to 
see  what  is  in  it.  This  is  the  secret  of  the  lock," 
and  he  touched  one  of  the  brass  knobs  and  the 
lid  lifted  a  little.  "Open  it,  my  dear." 

I  did  so,  and  found  it  was  filled  with  jewels  of 
the  most  wonderful  kind  I  had  ever  seen.  There 
82 


A    JOY    AND    A    SORROW 

were  rings  and  pendants  and  brooches,  a  rope  of 
pearls,  and  one  piece  like  a  crown  set  with  diamonds 
and  rubies,  having  a  necklace  to  match  with  a 
shower  of  the  same  stones.  Then  there  were 
diamond  buckles  and  earrings  and  bracelets,  and 
many  queer,  old-fashioned  things  that  were  lovely 
and  quaint.  It  was  like  a  treasure  in  a  fairy  tale. 

"And  are  these  for  me,  grandfather?"  I  asked, 
feeling  a  little  as  if  I  were  dreaming. 

"Yes,  dear,"  he  answered.  "I  wanted  you  to 
have  them  because  they  were  your  great-grand- 
mother's, and  no  one  has  worn  them  since.  You 
are  a  Fales,  through  and  through,  but  there  are 
times  when  you  speak  so  like  your  grandmother 
that  my  heart  stands  still.  And,  bless  me!  I  was 
forgetting.  Here  is  a  box  you  are  to  give  to  your 
mother,"  and  he  handed  me  a  small  package. 

"Oh,  grandfather,"  I  exclaimed,  very  earnestly, 
"what  can  I  say?  Just  'thank  you'  isn't  enough 
for  all  this." 

"John,  my  dear,"  he  replied,  with  a  smile,  "I 
think  it  will  do  if  you  kiss  your  old  grandfather," 
which  I  did  several  times. 

When  the  carriage  stopped  at  the  house  great- 
grandfather, to  my  surprise,  prepared  to  get  out 
with  me.  I  was  almost  afraid  to  think  what  this 
might  mean,  and  for  a  moment  I  could  hardly 
breathe. 

"I'm  coming  in  with  you,  my  dear,"  he  said,  and 
83 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

then  I  knew  it  was  true,  and  my  heart  bounded  with 
joy.  At  last  the  two  whom  I  loved  best  in  the 
world  would  meet  again. 

I  simply  flew  up  the  steps  of  the  house  to  ring 
the  bell,  and  when  at  last  the  door  ooened  I  rushed 
to  mother's  room. 

"Oh,  mother,  mother!"  I  cried,  "grandfather 
has  come."  And  mother  was  so  sweet!  We  went 
down  together  at  once,  and  when  she  saw  great- 
grandfather she  went  quickly  to  him  with  out- 
stretched hand. 

"I  am  so  glad!"  she  said. 

I  think,  perhaps,  great-grandfather  couldn't 
speak  for  a  moment.  I  know  I  couldn't,  for  there 
were  tears  in  my  eyes,  and  my  throat  felt  all  choky 
as  I  watched  them. 

"I  should  have  been  here  long  ago,  Marion," 
he  said  at  length,  still  holding  her  hand. 

"But  that  is  all  forgotten  now,"  mother  told 
him,  and  then  she  wanted  him  to  sit  down,  but 
he  shook  his  head. 

"  No,  my  dear,  I  must  hurry  back  to  the  country. 
There  are  things  to  see  to.  When  are  you  and 
John  coming  to  Fales  to  live  always  ?" 

"Are  you  sure  you  want  us  ?"  mother  asked. 

"I  have  wanted  you  for  years,  Marion,  but  I 
didn't  know  it,"  he  answered.     And  soon  every- 
thing was  settled  and  we  were  to  move  out  as 
quickly  as  we  possibly  could. 
84 


A    JOY    AND    A    SORROW 

We  went  to  the  door  with  him,  and  he  kissed 
mother  first.  Then  he  leaned  down  to  me. 

"Good-bye,  John  Fales,"  he  said  as  he  kissed 
me.  "I  couldn't  love  you  any  better  even  if  you 
had  been  a  boy." 

"Good-bye,  grandfather,"  I  answered — "good- 
bye, my  most  intimate  friend." 

As  he  reached  the  carriage  he  looked  in  and 
stopped. 

"Bless  me!"  he  cried,  "we've  forgotten  the 
boxes!"  James  brought  them  in,  and  a  minute 
later,  with  a  wave  of  his  hand,  great-grandfather 
drove  away. 

I  can't  tell  you  how  happy  mother  and  I  were 
that  night.  Of  course  we  looked  at  great-grand- 
mother's jewels  and  tried  some  of  them  on,  and 
the  little  box  for  mother  contained  the  most  beau- 
tiful ring  set  with  a  large  diamond,  surrounded 
first  with  small  rubies,  and  outside  of  these  a  row 
of  small  diamonds.  I  know  we  were  very,  very 
glad,  and  talked  late  into  the  night,  but  the  sad 
news  of  the  next  day  has  left  little  in  my  memory 
of  these  joyous  hours. 

My  heart  is  too  full  to  write  about  it.  The 
very  next  morning  William  went  to  wake  great- 
grandfather, who  seemed  to  be  sleeping  more 
soundly  than  usual,  and  found  that  he  would  never 
wake  again. 

I  had  lost  "my  most  intimate  friend." 
85 


XIII 

TWO   WILLS   AND   A   LAWYER 

WE  all  went  to   Fales   to  hear  great-grand- 
father's will  read.     It  was  a  family  custom, 
and  there  seemed  a  great  many  of  us  gathered 
in  the  library  that  day. 

The  aunts  and  mother  and  I  sat  together  in  a 
little  group  at  one  end  of  the  room,  some  distant 
relatives  that  none  of  us  knew  and  the  servants 
were  at  the  other,  while  between  were  Jackie 
and  his  mother  and  Cousin  Sommerville,  his 
father.  Mr.  Sloan,  the  lawyer,  sat  at  a  table  in 
the  corner,  and  I  was  surprised  to  see  how  young 
and  pleasant-looking  he  was.  I  had  an  idea  that 
lawyers  who  read  wills  were  old  and  grumpy, 
and  always  peered  over  their  spectacles. 

I  suppose  I  would  be  allowed  to  copy  the  will 
here,  but  then,  perhaps,  you  wouldn't  understand 
it  any  better  than  I  did  till  it  was  explained.  It 
was  quite  long,  and  I  noticed  mother  looked  pale 
at  the  end  of  it.  Also  my  great-aunts  were  very 
fidgety,  and  Cousin  Maria  was  the  only  one  who 
seemed  at  all  pleased. 

86 


TWO    WILLS    AND    A    LAWYER 

I  remember  her  coming  up  to  us  and  saying: 

"How  remarkably  just  and  wise  Mr.  Fales 
was/'  meaning  great-grandfather,  you  know;  and 
mother  said,  "Yes,  very,"  quite  calmly,  but  the 
aunts  were  plainly  disturbed,  and  didn't  say  a 
word  until  Cousin  Maria  had  gone,  then  they 
murmured  all  together: 

"We  don't  understand,  Marion.  There  is  some 
mistake,"  and  finally  it  was  decided  to  have  Mr. 
Sloan  call  at  the  town  house  and  make  every- 
thing clear  to  us. 

We  had  been  living  with  the  great-aunts  in 
Rittenhouse  Square,  because  they  had  come  at 
once  to  mother  and  seemed  to  lean  upon  her  and 
actually  to  need  her  with  them.  They  talked 
constantly  of  the  days  when  they  were  afraid 
to  go  to  us,  but  were  hoping  all  the  time  that 
great-grandfather  would  grow  so  fond  of  me  that 
everything  would  turn  out  as  they  wanted  it,  as 
indeed  it  did.  They  used  to  watch  us  in  the 
Square  together,  through  opera-glasses,  expecting 
every  day  to  see  me  get  into  the  carriage  with  him, 
and  when  at  length  he  told  them  that  he  was 
going  to  take  mother  and  me  to  Fales  to  live 
they  were  very,  very  happy. 

I  don't  believe  I  ever  thought  about  the  will 

as  having   anything  to   do  with   me   personally. 

Mother  had   been   careful   not  to  put   any  false 

notions  in  my  head,  and  never  once  did  she  hint 

7  87 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

that  my  growing  intimacy  with  great-grandfather 
might  make  an  enormous  difference  in  my  future. 
So  I  hadn't  bothered  very  much  about  it,  though  I 
did  ask  mother  who  would  take  care  of  Fales  now. 

"Let's  wait,  dearie,  till  Mr.  Sloan  explains  every- 
thing to  us,"  she  said,  and  that  quite  satisfied  me. 

Mr.  Sloan  came,  and  this  is  what  he  told  us. 

Great-grandfather  had  always  provided  liberally 
for  my  great-aunts  during  his  life,  and  these  allow- 
ances were  to  be  continued.  He  arranged  that  the 
houses  in  Rittenhouse  Square  and  at  Newport 
should  be  kept  up,  and  that  they  should  have  lots 
of  money  to  live  in  the  style  to  which  they  were 
accustomed;  but  under  no  consideration  were  they 
to  use  any  of  their  money  for  the  support  of  Fales, 
either  directly  or  indirectly.  When  they  died  this 
money  was  to  come  to  me  in  case  I  had  married 
before  I  was  thirty-five;  if  not,  it  was  to  be  given 
to  the  Society  for  the  Prevention  of  Cruelty  to 
Children,  because  great-grandfather  considered 
that  the  other  provision  he  had  made  for  me  was 
"ample  for  a  spinster."  (It  does  seem  queer  to 
be  called  a  spinster  when  you  are  only  a  little 
more  than  twelve.)  All  the  servants  had  been 
remembered,  especially  William;  some  legacies 
were  left  to  distant  relatives,  and  a  great  deal  to 
various  charities. 

Then  came  the  important  things  so  far  as  I  was 
concerned.  Fales  was  left  to  me,  but  Jackie  was 


TWO   WILLS    AND    A    LAWYER 

given  all  the  rest  of  the  money,  with  directions 
that  he  was  to  buy  Fales  from  me  for  two  million 
dollars  if  I  would  sell  it. 

Now  this  was  much  more  money  than  any  one 
else  would  give,  and  it  was  in  this  way  that  great- 
grandfather arranged  to  keep  his  word  that  the 
first  child  to  be  called  John  Fales  should  inherit 
the  estate,  and  at  the  same  time  made  it  necessary 
for  me  to  give  it  up  because  I  had  no  money  to 
support  it.  To  make  sure  that  the  provision 
should  be  carried  out,  great-grandfather  had 
stipulated  that  if,  by  a  certain  date,  Jackie  had 
not  made  the  offer,  all  his  money  (not  just  the 
two  millions)  should  go  instead  to  build  and 
maintain  a  hospital. 

A  day  had  been  appointed  in  the  will  when 
Jackie  and  I  should  meet  again  at  Fales,  and 
he  was  then  to  make  a  formal  offer  to  buy  it  from 
me,  and  I  was  to  make  answer. 

"I  think  that  is  everything,"  said  Mr.  Sloan  at 
the  end,  folding  some  papers  and  preparing  to  go. 

Great-aunt  Martha  leaned  forward  in  her  chair, 
very  much  agitated,  as  any  one  could  see  by  the 
way  her  hands  trembled,  but  her  voice  was  quite 
firm. 

"Please  tell  me  the  date  of  that  will  ?"  she  said. 
Mr.  Sloan  read  the  date,  which  was  just  a  month 
after  I  was  born. 

"  But,  sir,  I  assure  you,"  Aunt  Martha  went  on, 
89 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

"there  is  a  later  will.  My  father  did  not  as  a 
rule  discuss  his  business  affairs  with  the  ladies  of 
his  family,  still  he  was  absolutely  just,  and  was 
always  ready  to  acknowledge  a  mistake  if  he  had 
made  one.  It  was  because  he  had  erred  that  he 
told  my  sisters  and  me  recently  of  the  provision 
he  had  made  for  our  niece  and  grandniece." 
Aunt  Martha  stopped,  out  of  breath  and  very 
much  moved. 

"You  are  quite  correct,"  said  Mr.  Sloan,  "in 
thinking  that  there  was  another  will  planned. 
You  are  aware,  no  doubt,  that  Mr.  Fales's  le- 
gal affairs  have  only  come  into  my  hands  within 
the  last  few  months.  His  previous  attorney,  Mr. 
Samuel  Brown,  died  when  the  new  will  was  being 
drafted,  and  the  transfer  naturally  caused  con- 
siderable delay.  Mr.  Fales  corrected  a  rough 
copy  of  the  new  will,  and  the  final  document 
was  ready  for  his  signature  when  the  news  of 
his  sudden  death  reached  me.  Unfortunately,  it 
is  quite  valueless;  but  it  may  be  of  interest  to  you 
to  know  that,  in  addition  to  the  provisions  for  his 
daughters,  etc.,  he  had  set  aside  an  ample  allowance 
for  Mrs.  Fales.  To  John  Fales,  son  of  Sommer- 
ville  Fales,  a  million  dollars.  The  Fales  estate 
and  the  residuary  he  left  to  his  'great-grand- 
daughter, who,  he  felt,  would  worthily  uphold 
the  family  name.'" 

After  all,  great-grandfather  really  wanted  me 
90 


TWO    WILLS   AND    A    LAWYER 

to  have  Fales,  even  if  I  was  a  girl.  Somehow 
nothing  mattered  since  I  knew  that,  and  I  began 
to  cry — I  couldn't  help  it.  That  started  the  great- 
aunts,  I  suppose,  and  even  mother  had  tears  in 
her  eyes,  so  I  guess  Mr.  Sloan  was  glad  to  get 
away. 


XIV 

THE    FALES   MOTTO 

THE  following  days  just  dragged  along,  and 
yet  they  went  very  swiftly,  too,  for  when  you 
have  to  make  up  your  mind  about  something  and 
can't  do  it  the  hours  seem  twice  as  long;  although 
before  you  know  it  the  time  has  come  when  "yes" 
or  "no"  must  be  said.  And  I  had  to  decide 
whether  I  should  sell  Fales  to  Jackie  or  keep  it 
myself. 

Mother  and  I  talked  the  matter  over  only  once. 

"John,  dear,"  she  began,  "I  feel,  somehow, 
that  you  ought  to  make  the  choice  yourself;  but 
there  are  certain  things  that  I  must  point  out  to 
you.  If  you  sell  Fales  you  will  have  more  than 
enough  money  to  do  anything  a  girl  might  wish. 
You  can  travel  and  study,  and  have  a  country 
place  of  your  own  besides  the  house  in  Locust 
Street.  I  cannot  think  of  a  wish  you  might  have 
that  could  not  be  gratified." 

"Except  Fales,  mother!"  I  exclaimed. 

"Yes,  dearie,  you  would  have  to  give  up  that," 
she  went  on,  "but,  remember,  all  the  money  we 
92 


THE    FALES    MOTTO 

have  would  just  about  pay  the  taxes  on  the  es- 
tate. Then  think  of  all  the  other  expenses — food, 
clothing,  school,  servants'  wages,  and  a  hundred 
other  things,  besides  constant  repairs.  We  would 
have  to  earn  money  some  way,  and,  dearie,  you 
and  I  don't  know  much  about  earning  money. 
If  you  had  only  been  a  boy — "  and  she  ended  with 
a  sigh. 

"Oh,  please,  please,  mother,"  I  cried.  "If  you 
begin  to  wish  I  had  been  a  boy  I  won't  be  able  to 
stand  it.  You've  been  my  only  comfort  since  I 
was  born." 

"I  didn't  mean  it,  dearie,"  said  mother,  tak- 
ing me  in  her  arms.  "It  was  only — only — " 

"Yes,  I  know,"  I  interrupted;  "it's  on  account 
of  Fales,  and  I'm  just  a  worthless  girl.  I  wish  I 
had  been  a  boy,  too,  on  that  account,  for,  oh, 
mother,  you  can't  guess  how  hard  it  is  to  think 
of  giving  up  Fales.  Why,  it  belongs  to  me,  and 
great-grandfather  meant  me  to  have  it,  because 
there  are  things  he  taught  me  about  it  that  no  one 
else  in  the  world  knows,  not  even  you,  mother, 
and  that  shows.  Of  course,  I'm  a  very  little  girl 
to  decide  such  a  big  question,  but,  after  all,  I 
suppose  I  don't  have  to.  There's  only  one  thing 
we  can  do,  and  that's  to  give  it  up.  We  can't 
live  at  Fales  on  nothing!" 

"Dearie,  I  only  wish  I  were  wise  enough  to 
help  you,"  said  mother.  "  If  we  keep  Fales  the 
93 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

chances  are  very  much  against  our  getting  nearly 
so  much  money  for  it  later  on,  for  the  place  is 
too  big  and  expensive  except  for  very  rich  people, 
and  they  want  to  build  their  own  houses.  Other- 
wise I  should  be  tempted  to  say,  'Let  us  try  it  for 
a  while.'  But  I  know  what  a  little  time  my  money 
would  last  —  and,  oh,  dearie,  I  wish  you  had  a 
father  to  advise  you  instead  of  a  mother." 

"Yes,  that's  the  trouble,"  I  answered.  "I 
guess  this  needs  a  man,  mother,  and  we  are  just 
girls." 

After  that  mother  and  I  avoided  the  subject 
of  Fales;  she  didn't  want  to  influence  me  one  way 
or  the  other  once  she  pointed  out  how  things 
stood,  and  yet  I  knew  she  was  ready  to  help  me 
keep  it.  But  how  could  I  ? 

The  day  before  the  appointed  time  for  the 
formal  offer  from  Jackie,  mother  and  I  went  to 
Fales  to  stay  all  night.  I  wanted  to  feel,  even  for 
just  a  little  minute,  that  it  was  mine,  so  mother 
telephoned  to  William  and  he  sent  the  carriage. 

The  great-aunts  decided  they  would  go  out 
the  following  morning,  guessing,  I  think,  that  we 
would  rather  be  alone,  and  so  we  had  the  place 
all  to  ourselves. 

As  we  walked  about  the  broad  lawn  or  down 

the  hill  among  the  fields  and  meadows,  I  tried  to 

forget  everything  except  that  it  was  all  mine,  and 

to  pretend  we  were  going  to  live  there  always,  but 

94 


THE    FALES    MOTTO 

when  the  evening  came  I  couldn't  help  feeling  a 
little  unhappy,  for,  though  I  hadn't  said  to  myself 
what  I  was  going  to  do  the  next  day,  I  really  knew 
in  my  heart  that  it  must  be  given  up. 

After  dinner  mother  and  I  sat  together  on  a 
little  sofa  before  the  big  stone  fireplace  in  the 
hall  and  watched  the  flames  leap  up  the  chimney. 
It  wasn't  really  cold,  but  William  had  lighted  it 
for  cheerfulness,  and  in  a  short  while  he  came  in 
and  pretended  to  fix  it,  though  I  knew  that  was 
an  excuse. 

"It's  good  to  see  you  here,  Miss  Marion," 
William  said  as  he  poked  about  in  the  embers. 

"Yes,  it's  good  to  be  here,  William,"  mother 
answered. 

"I  was  tellin'  Miss  John  about  the  weddin'," 
he  went  on.  "A  grand  night  that!  And  do  you 
remember  when  the  young  master  came  of  age, 
and  the  cakes,  miss  ?  Of  course,  you  remember, 
and — ah,  me!  what  a  power  of  change  has  come 
since  then;  but  I'm  an  old  fool  to  make  you 
miserable  thinkin'  of  them  times." 

"No,  William,"  said  mother,  "I  like  to  think 
of  them.  They  were  such  happy  days." 

William  nodded  his  head  slowly  up  and  down. 

"And  when  will  you  be  comin'  out  for  good, 
you  and  Miss  John  ?"  he  asked  presently. 

"That  hasn't  been  decided  yet,"  mother  an- 
swered. 

95 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

"I  hope  it  will  be  decided  the  right  way,  Miss 
Marion;  we  need  you  here,"  William  said,  look- 
ing at  her  earnestly. 

"And  I  hope  so,  too,"  mother  murmured,  more 
to  herself  than  to  us. 

William  gave  the  fire  a  final  poke  and  turned 
to  go. 

"Will  you  be  wantin'  the  lights,  miss?"  he 
asked,  and  mother  shook  her  head.  "No,  I 
thought  not,"  he  went  on.  "You'll  be  ringin'  if 
the  fire  dies  or  you  wish  anything,  miss  ?" 

"Yes,  thank  you,  William,"  mother  replied,  and 
we  were  left  alone. 

"Mother,"  I  said,  after  a  while,  "what  was  it 
William  meant  about  'cakes'?" 

"They  were  birthday  cakes,  dearie,  and  a  very 
strange  thing  happened." 

"Tell  me  about  it,  please,"  I  begged,  snuggling 
close  to  her  and  putting  my  head  down  on  her 
shoulder. 

It  had  grown  quite  dark,  and  there  were  deep 
shadows  all  round  us,  but  the  light  from  the  fire 
lit  up  mother's  face  as  she  talked,  and  I  thought 
what  a  dear,  beautiful  mother  she  was. 

"You  know,  dearie,"  she  began  in  her  quiet 
voice,  "great-grandfather  loved  to  have  young 
people  about  him,  so  that  Fales  was  noted  for  its 
parties  and  balls.  The  musicians  used  to  sit 
up  there  in  the  gallery,  and  we  danced  here  in 
96 


THE    FALES    MOTTO 

the  hall  and  in  the  reception-rooms.  Perhaps  it 
is  because  I  am  older,  but  it  doesn't  seem  as  if 
anybody  had  such  a  good  time  nowadays  as 
we  did,  particularly  at  Fales.  Well,  when  your 
father  came  of  age,  great-grandfather  gave  a 
splendid  birthday  party  for  him.  There  were  two 
huge  birthday  cakes  iced  and  ornamented,  each 
having  twenty-one  candles,  and  in  one  there  was 
a  girl's  ring  and  in  the  other  a  man's.  You 
could  tell  them  apart,  because  on  the  top  of  the 
gentlemen's  cake  there  was  a  funny  little  shepherd 
with  powdered  hair,  dressed  in  silk  and  satin,  and 
on  the  other  there  was  a  shepherdess,  just  as 
gayly  clad. 

"Now,  dearie,  I  had  known  your  father  for 
nearly  a  year  then.  We  had  seen  a  lot  of  each 
other,  and,  well — I  was  very  much  in  love  with 
him  and  he  was  in  love  with  me,  though  neither 
of  us  knew  how  the  other  felt,  and  each  was 
afraid  they  weren't  good  enough. 

"  When  it  came  time  for  supper  father  took  me 
out  and  left  me  in  the  bay-window  of  the  library 
while  he  went  to  cut  the  cakes  with  great-grand- 
father's sword.  The  first  piece  he  sent  to  me  by 
William,  who  was  helping  that  night,  and  then, 
as  soon  as  he  could,  he  hurried  back. 

"  I  hadn't  touched  my  cake,  because  I  wanted 
to  wait  for  him,  you  know,  but  he  wasn't  thinking 
about  eating  at  all,  and  had  forgotten  to  take  any 
97 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

for  himself.  However,  when  I  spoke  to  him  of  it 
and  told  him  I  wouldn't  touch  mine  till  he  had 
some,  he  called  the  two  men  who  were  carrying 
the  men's  cake  around  the  room  to  bring  it  to 
him,  and  he  took  a  thin  little  slice  which  he 
was  sure  couldn't  possibly  have  a  heavy  ring  in  it, 
because,  of  course,  he  wanted  some  one  else  to 
get  it. 

"  Then,  dearie,  a  very  funny  thing  happened. 
At  the  first  mouthful  each  of  us  bit  on  something 
hard,  and  I  had  the  man's  ring  and  father  had  the 
girl's.  The  cook  had  made  a  mistake. 

"There  weren't  any  people  very  near  us,  and 
father  then  and  there  asked  me  to  give  him 
my  ring  and  myself,  in  exchange  for  his  ring  and 
himself,  for  always;  but  I  could  only  nod  my 
head  'yes,'  because  I  was  too  happy  to  speak. 

"  Now  by  that  time  everybody  was  asking,  '  Who 
have  the  rings  ? '  and  we  were  very  much  embar- 
rassed, so  after  a  great  deal  of  consultation  we 
decided  it  was  best  to  take  great-grandfather  into 
our  secret  at  once;  and  he  was  so  pleased  that  he 
wanted  to  tell  every  one  right  away,  and,  not  hav- 
ing any  father  or  mother  to  consult,  I  consented. 

"  Then  great-grandfather  went  into  the  gallery 
with  a  footman  on  each  side  of  him,  one  holding 
a  bottle  of  champagne  and  the  other  a  glass,  and 
when  the  people  saw  him  they  knew  he  wished  to 
speak  and  were  silent  at  once. 


THE    FALES    MOTTO 

"  Great-grandfather  made  a  little  speech,  telling 
about  the  rings  and  how  pleased  he  was  at  being 
able  to  keep  them  in  the  family,  and  he  ended  by 
calling  for  a  health  to  the  bride  and  groom  to  be. 
Then  one  of  the  men  opened  the  bottle  of  cham- 
pagne, and  the  other  held  the  glass,  and  when  it 
was  full  great-grandfather  lifted  it  up  and  drank 
the  health  and  led  the  cheering  amid  such  a  noise 
of  hand  -  clapping  and  congratulations  as  you 
never  heard.  And  that,  dearie,  is  the  way  we  be- 
came engaged;  and  this  band  of  little  diamonds  is 
the  ring  your  father  found  in  the  birthday  cake 
and  exchanged  with  me." 

'And  you  were  married  at  Fales,  too,  mother  ?" 
I  asked,  after  a  long  pause. 

"Yes,  dear,"  mother  explained.  "You  see,  I 
was  all  alone  in  the  world,  except  for  my  two 
sisters  in  the  South,  and  great-grandfather  wasn't 
very  well  at  the  time,  and  he  asked  me,  as  a  favor, 
to  have  the  wedding  here,  at  Fales.  I  was  very 
glad  to  do  it  for  him,  and  your  great-aunts  took 
care  of  me  as  if  I  had  been  a  daughter  of  one  of 
them.  But  it  is  too  late  to  talk  about  that  to-night. 
Some  other  time." 

We  watched  the  glowing  fire  for  a  few  moments 
longer,  and  I  couldn't  help  thinking  of  what  the 
next  day  would  bring  forth.  It  almost  broke 
my  heart  to  remember  that  I  must  give  it  up. 
Really,  it  was  all  mine,  and  as  I  looked  at  the 
99 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

Fales  coat  of  arms  cut  into  the  stone  under  the 
mantel  of  the  fireplace  I  thought  that  'way,  'way 
back  in  the  olden  time  some  great-great  (I  couldn't 
tell  how  many  greats)  grandfather  of  mine  had 
won  it  because  he  had  been  brave  and  had  done 
his  duty.  Then  I  noticed  a  scroll  under  the  shield 
with  some  old-fashioned  letters,  and  after  a  little 
I  made  out  the  words, 

"Io  conservo  It  mien." 

"Mother,"  I  said,  "I  ought  to  know  what  that 
means.  It's  French,  isn't  it?" 

"Yes,  dear,  old  French,"  mother  answered.  "It 
is  the  Fales  motto,  and  it  means,  'I  keep  my 


XV 

I   MAKE   MY   DECISION 

I  MUST  confess  that  I  was  a  good  deal  of  a 
baby  that  night  and  sobbed  myself  to  sleep. 

The  next  morning  we  were  up  early,  and 
William  came  to  mother  for  his  orders,  just  as  if 
she  was  mistress  of  the  house,  and  that  made  me 
all  the  more  unhappy;  so  while  they  talked,  I 
slipped  off  by  myself  to  great-grandfather's  study. 
I  found  the  rose  and  opened  the  panel  in  the  wall, 
and  stepped  into  the  secret  room. 

Everything  was  as  great-grandfather  had  left 
it,  of  course.  There  was  the  little  single  high-post 
mahogany  bed  with  the  canopy  over  it,  and  the 
dear  old-fashioned  counterpane  covering  the  pil- 
lows, and  I  went  in  and  smoothed  out  the  wrinkles 
here  and  there,  wondering  who  would  be  the  next 
person  to  sleep  in  it  and  who  would  make  the 
bed  again  afterward.  I  found  the  cloth  and 
washed  the  window  carefully,  for  then,  at  any  rate, 
Fales  was  mine,  and  I  felt  I  was  doing  my  duty 
to  the  old  house  and  its  secrets.  After  that  I  sat 
down  at  the  desk  in  the  corner,  and  putting  my  head 
101 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

in  my  hands,  tried  to  think  what  great-grandfather 
would  have  told  me  to  do.  And  I  knew  that  he 
would  have  said,  "Keep  Fales!"  In  spite  of  the 
misunderstanding  in  the  beginning,  in  spite  of  the 
fact  that  I  was  a  girl,  he  wanted  me  to  have  it; 
but  how  was  it  possible  when  we  had  so  little 
money  ?  It  would  be  worse  to  let  it  go  to  rack 
and  ruin:  to  let  the  weeds  grow  up  in  the  lawn, 
the  paths  get  untidy,  to  close  the  stables  and  the 
conservatories  and  dairies,  to  neglect  the  repairs 
that  were  constantly  needed  in  an  old  house  like 
this.  Yes,  that  would  be  worse  than  letting 
Jackie  have  it;  for  he,  at  least,  had  the  money  to 
preserve  it  as  it  was. 

I  tried  to  take  some  comfort  in  this  thought.  It 
was  better  than  having  the  place  go  to  strangers, 
who  would  put  in  electric  lights,  perhaps,  and 
change  it  so  no  one  would  know  it.  I  really  did 
love  it,  you  see,  for  I  was  almost  reconciled  to 
giving  it  up  when  I  realized  that  Fales  would 
suffer  otherwise. 

I  went  about  the  room  once  more,  touching  the 
desk,  the  two  chairs,  the  table,  and  the  bed,  as  if 
to  say  "good-bye"  to  them.  Then  I  left  it,  and 
after  carefully  closing  the  panel,  went  back  to 
mother. 

We  spent  the  morning  together,  wandering 
about  the  house  and  looking  into  the  Washington 
Room  and  the  one  with  "B.  Franklin"  over  the 


I    MAKE    MY    DECISION 

door.  We  didn't  have  much  to  say  to  one  another, 
and  I  guess  that  mother  felt  as  I  did — that  we  were 
really  bidding  a  sort  of  farewell  to  everything,  and 
that,  you  know,  made  us  a  little  sad.  We  looked 
at  the  pictures  in  the  gallery  running  around  the 
hall,  and  though  it  is  a  small  collection,  it  is  quite 
a  fine  one.  There  is  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  a 
Peter  Lely,  a  splendid  Romney,  two  Hopners, 
two  Peales,  and  a  lot  of  others;  but  mother  says 
that  the  gem  is  a  portrait  by  Velasquez  of  a  Fales, 
and  it  was  painted  in  Spain,  where  he  had  been 
sent  on  a  diplomatic  mission  from  England  in  the 
seventeenth  century.  These  old  masters  are 
wonderful,  I  suppose,  but  the  ones  I  like  best 
are  those  of  father  and  mother  which  Sargent 
painted  just  after  they  came  back  from  their 
honeymoon,  and  the  one  of  great-grandfather 
when  he  was  a  young  man,  by  Watts.  This 
picture  made  me  understand  what  William  meant 
when  he  said  I  was  like  great-grandfather. 

At  last  we  looked  from  the  gallery  into  the  big 
hall  below,  with  its  shining  mahogany  floors  and 
doors  contrasted  with  the  white  panelling;  the 
staircase,  sweeping  down  in  a  graceful  curve  and 
the  banisters  ending  in  a  polished  brass  ball; 
the  wide  carved  stone  fireplace,  with  its  coat  of 
arms  and  motto,  " lo  conserve  It  mien" — and  it 
seemed  to  me  that  this  hall  was  the  heart  of  the 
house. 

8  103 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

"Well,"  I  thought,  mournfully,  "Jackie's  family 
will  take  good  care  of  it;  for,  after  all,  they  are 
Fales,"  ard  I  tried  to  be  comforted. 

But  how  the  morning  flew!  Before  we  knew 
it  the  great-aunts  had  come,  we  had  had  luncheon, 
and  a  little  later  Mr.  Sloan,  Jackie,  and  his  father 
and  mother  arrived. 

We  all  met  in  the  hall,  and  I'll  never  forget 
Cousin  Maria  as  she  rustled  in  with  her  head 
up.  She  sounded  like  an  afternoon  tea,  and 
her  silk  skirts  kept  whispering,  "So  expensive! 
So,  so,  expensive!"  She  seemed  to  think  it 
was  a  festive  occasion,  and  was  most  gracious 
and  condescending  to  mother  and  the  great- 
aunts. 

"You  remember,  Marion,"  she  announced,  in 
her  high  voice — "you  remember  I  said  that  Jackie 
would  one  day  own  the  home  of  his  ancestors  ? 
Dear  Cousin  Martha,  how  well  you  are  looking! 
Isn't  it  pleasant  that  black  is  so  universally  be- 
coming, except  to  pronounced  brunettes  like  John. 
Don't  you  think  Jackie  looks  distinguished  in  his 
mourning  ?  I  am  sure  it  will  be  a  relief  to  your 
minds  to  know  that  I  have  decided  to  live  here. 
Of  course,  I  sha'n't  give  up  Newport,  and  the 
town  house  will  always  be  a  necessity;  but  we 
shall  keep  the  old  servants  here,  and  Jackie  can 
bring  boys  home  for  the  holidays.  'Mrs.  Som- 
merville  Fales,  of  Fales,'  has  such — ah — such  a 
104 


I    MAKE    MY    DECISION 

— sound!  But  if  we  stay  here  at  all  I'll  have  to 
build  a  ball-room." 

"The  hall  and  drawing-rooms  were  quite  good 
enough  for  his  Excellency,  General  Washington," 
Aunt  Selina  burst  out,  indignantly. 

"You  dear,  quaint  thing!"  Cousin  Maria  ex- 
claimed. "Of  course  they  were,  and  so  were 
candles  and  wood  fires;  but  that  won't  keep  me 
from  putting  in  electric  lights  and  gas  logs,  will  it  ? 
I  never  saw  a  wood  fire  that  was  the  least  good; 
they  either  burn  your  face  or  leave  you  shivering. 
Now  a  gas  fire  you  can  regulate  so  nicely  and  have 
just  as  hot  as  you  please.  No,  my  dear,  I'm  all 
for  utility,  and  I  can  see  that  much  will  have  to  be 
done  to  make  the  house  habitable  as  we  under- 
stand it  nowadays.  You'll  hardly  recognize  the 
place  when  I've  done  with  it,  it  will  be  so  vastly 
improved." 

I  was  standing  by  mother's  chair,  and  as  I 
listened  to  Cousin  Maria  my  heart  sank  like  lead. 
"Gas  logs!  Electric  lights!"  The  words  buzzed 
about  in  my  head.  Why,  these  people  were 
strangers;  they  didn't  love  the  place  if  they  could 
change  it  in  that  way.  They  were  just  anybody, 
and  Fales  was  nothing  to  them;  and  yet  Cousin 
Maria  was  so  sure — so  very  sure. 

Suddenly  I  became  conscious  of  Mr.  Sloan 
speaking: 

"As  the  matter  seems  definitely  settled,  and  as 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

John  Fales,  son  of  Mr.  Sommerville  Fales,  has 
made  his  offer,  there  only  remains  the  mere 
formality  of  asking  Miss  John  Fales  her  decision." 

The  time  had  come;  they  were  all  looking  at  me, 
waiting,  and  I  felt  mother's  arm  tighten  about 
my  waist  to  give  me  courage.  For  a  moment  I 
could  not  speak,  and  as  I  glanced  about  the  hall 
my  eye  caught  the  motto  under  the  coat  of  arms 
carved  in  the  fireplace — "Io  conservo  It  mien." 
Then  I  seemed  to  hear  a  voice  saying  quite  loudly : 

"  Fales  is  mine !     I  keep  my  own ! " 

And  the  next  moment  I  heard  mother  crying, 
"Oh,  my  darling,  I'm  so  glad,  so  glad!"  and  the 
aunts  were  patting  my  hands,  and  Jackie  let  out 
a  yell  like  a  steam-engine  and  shouted: 

"Bully  for  you,  John  Fales  of  Fales!" 


XVI 

CUTTING   DOWN    EXPENSES 

MOTHER  and  I  moved  out  to  Fales  as  soon 
as  possible,  and  the  struggle  to  make  both 
ends  meet  began  in  earnest.  My  conscience 
bothered  me  a  good  deal  at  first.  It  was  all 
very  fine  for  me  to  stand  up  and  say,  "Fales  is 
mine  I  keep  my  own!"  But,  you  see,  mother 
had  to  do  all  the  economizing,  and  really  the  bur- 
den was  on  her  shoulders. 

"I've  brought  you  a  lot  of  trouble,"  I  said  to 
her  one  day.  "I  know  you  think  it  would  have 
been  better  to  let  Fales  go." 

"No,  dearie,  there  you  are  quite  wrong," 
mother  answered,  positively.  "It  might  have  been 
wiser,  only  time  can  tell  that;  but  when  you  stood 
up  so  bravely  and  decided  it  all  by  yourself,  I 
was  very  proud  of  you,  John  Fales,  and  very  glad 
indeed.  I  couldn't  forget  all  the  dear  associations 
with  the  old  house,  and  my  heart  said:  'Keep 
Fales!  Don't  give  up  your  birthright!'  Still,  I 
knew  it  was  more  sensible  to  take  the  money  and 
be  rich  and  comfortable.  That  is  the  reason  I 
107 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

talked  to  you  only  of  the  advantages  of  giving  it 
up;  but,  now  that  it  is  done,  I  don't  mind  telling 
you  that  I'd  rather  be  poor  at  Fales  than  rich 
anywhere  else  in  the  world." 

"Well,  mother,"  I  confessed,  "I  had  made  up 
my  mind  to  sell,  but  Cousin  Maria  seemed — " 

"Yes,  I  know,"  mother  interrupted,  "Cousin 
Maria  has  an  unfortunate  manner;  but  that  is 
all  past.  We  have  Fales  to  take  care  of  now. 
How  we  are  going  to  manage  it  I  don't  know. 
However,  we  won't  give  up  without  a  fight,  will 
we?" 

You  can  understand  that  what  mother  said 
comforted  me  considerably,  for  she  was  very  seri- 
ous, and  I  felt  sure  she  meant  every  word  of  it, 
and  wasn't  just  trying  to  keep  me  from  worrying 
about  her. 

We  began  by  cutting  down  expenses  wherever 
it  was  possible.  We  kept  the  old  servants  who 
had  a  real  claim  on  the  family,  but  the  French 
chef  and  his  helper,  the  butler  and  two  footmen 
we  got  rid  of  at  once. 

Mother  had  a  long  talk  with  Larkin,  the  head 
gardener,  who  assured  us  that  he  could  make  the 
graperies  pay  for  themselves  and  the  conserva- 
tories too,  besides  having  plenty  of  everything  for 
the  house.  Then  Mr.  Johnston,  the  man  in 
charge  of  the  farm  and  dairies,  said  he  wouldn't 
like  anything  better  than  to  run  that  part  of  the 
108 


CUTTING    DOWN    EXPENSES 

place  on  shares,  and  shortly  after  "Fales  butter" 
became  very  fashionable  in  Philadelphia,  which 
boasts  of  having  the  best  butter  in  the  world.  At 
first  the  aunts  were  a  little  shocked  at  this,  but 
they  soon  became  quite  proud  of  its  reputation 
and  bought  pounds  more  than  they  needed  of  it, 
thinking  they  were  helping  us,  which  indeed  they 
were,  though  what  they  did  with  it  all  is  still  a 
mystery. 

Thomas,  the  coachman,  stayed,  of  course;  but 
James  and  the  grooms  and  all  the  horses  except 
three  had  to  go,  and  even  then  the  stables  were 
very  expensive. 

Mother  was  worried  about  William.  After  all, 
there  wasn't  much  need  of  a  valet  at  Fales  just 
then,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  we  did  want  a  man 
in  the  house.  Moreover,  William  had  been  so 
much  a  part  of  Fales  that  it  was  a  little  perplexing 
to  know  what  to  do. 

However,  he  settled  that  himself  by  coming  to 
me  one  day  with  tears  in  his  eyes. 

"Miss  John,"  he  began,  "now  what  use  has  an 
old  man  like  me  without  chick  or  child  for  all  that 
money  Mr.  Fales  left  me?  I've  got  more  than 
enough  put  by  out  of  my  wages  to  take  care  of 
me  when  I  can't  work.  Go  to  your  mother, 
Miss  John,  and  tell  her  I'll  not  have  it.  It  belongs 
to  you,  and  you'll  not  be  above  takin*  it  from  an 
old  servant  who  knew  and  loved  your  father 
109 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

when  he  was  a  baby.  And,  Miss  John,  I'm  not 
going  away,  mind  that!  Maybe  you  think  I 
ought,  but  Fales  is  home  to  me.  I  don't  ask  wages, 
and  I  haven't  forgotten  how  to  look  after  a  dining- 
room,  even  if  I  have  been  own  man  to  Mr.  Fales 
for  so  long.  I'll  be  butler  here  for  board  and 
lodging." 

Of  course,  there  was  no  thought  of  William 
going  after  that.  Mother  couldn't  take  his  money, 
though  he  insisted;  but  she  made  some  arrange- 
ment, and  he  has  been  with  us  ever  since,  and, 
really,  he  buttles  very  nicely.  Then  he  takes  a 
real  pride  in  the  house,  and  gives  us,  mother  says, 
"the  sort  of  service  money  couldn't  buy,"  and  I 
guess  she  knows. 

But  with  all  our  plans  and  economizing  mother 
was  having  hard  work  to  meet  expenses,  and  you 
don't  know  how  many  times  I  wished  I  had  been 
a  girl  in  a  book.  They  always  get  out  of  their 
troubles  so  nicely  by  having  an  uncle  in  India 
whom  every  one  thought  was  the  next  thing  to  an 
idiot,  and  were  very  glad  to  get  rid  of,  and  just 
as  things  are  at  their  worst,  he  comes  in  at  the 
front  door  loaded  down  with  lacs  of  rupees  and 
ropes  of  pearls  and  pays  everybody's  debts;  or 
else  she  finds  a  weird  note  with  crosses  in  red  ink, 
showing  where  the  treasure  was  buried  during  the 
war,  and  they  go  at  the  dead  of  night  and  dig  it 
up,  though  why  they  don't  wait  till  morning,  when 


CUTTING    DOWN    EXPENSES 

the  light  would  be  better,  I  could  never  make  out. 
Then  there  is  the  girl  who  never  had  a  music 
lesson  in  her  life,  but  is  a  genius  and  wins  fame 
and  fortune  in  a  single  night  by  singing  at  a  con- 
cert in  place  of  a  prima  donna,  who  conveniently 
catches  cold. 

That  is  the  way  it  is  in  books;  but  I  am  not  a 
genius,  nor  have  I  a  single  uncle  on  either  side  of 
the  family,  and,  although  Fales  is  exactly  the  place 
for  buried  treasure,  mother  assured  me  it  wasn't 
worth  while  to  hunt  for  any  because  all  the  plate 
and  jewels  were  locked  up  safe  and  sound  in  the 
vault  under  the  house.  So  I  stopped  tapping 
the  walls  and  getting  my  dresses  mussed  looking 
for  caves  in  the  rocks.  I  did  try  doing  without 
honey  on  my  griddle-cakes  to  see  if  perhaps  I  could 
get  used  to  starving;  but  mother  began  to  worry 
at  once,  for  fear  I  was  ill,  and  I  didn't  try  it 
again. 

Of  course,  there  were  great  -  grandmother's 
jewels,  but  I  couldn't  sell  them.  Great-grand- 
father had  given  them  to  me  in  trust,  and  I  was 
keeping  them  for  my  great-grandchildren.  Be- 
sides, I  just  couldn't! 

Many  times  I  used  to  wonder  what  a  boy 
would  have  done  in  my  place;  for  all  our  visitors, 
and  even  the  great-aunts,  would  look  at  me  re- 
proachfully and  murmur:  "If  she  had  only  been 
a  boy!"  But  I  wasn't,  and  I  did  get  tired  of 
in 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

hearing  it,  because  it  seemed  to  me  that  Jackie, 
for  instance,  if  he  had  found  himself  in  my  fix, 
would  be  doing  exactly  what  I  was — and  that 
was,  just  nothing. 


XVII 

THE  GREAT-AUNTS    HELP 

IT  was  during  this  first  year  that  we  had  our 
best  chance  to  plan  for  the  future,  because 
provision  had  been  made  by  great-grandfather 
to  pay  the  taxes  at  Fales,  and  our  Locust  Street 
house  was  very  well  rented  indeed. 

Of  course,  expenses  were  greater  than  in  town; 
but  although  we  were  in  no  immediate  need  of 
money,  I  knew  mother  always  had  in  mind  the 
time  when  more  would  be  required  —  and  we 
weren't  saving  any. 

As  the  winter  came  on  mother  very  reluctantly 
decided  to  close  the  wings  of  the  house  in  order  to 
save  the  cost  of  heating  and  lighting,  and  I'll 
never  forget  William  when  she  told  him  of  it. 
I  truely  believe  he  is  the  person  next  to  me  that 
loves  Fales  best,  and  it  was  an  awful  blow  to  him 
to  think  that  any  of  the  old  mansion's  past  glory 
should  depart  from  it.  It  had  always  been  the 
custom  to  have  all  the  halls  brilliantly  lighted  and 
not  to  close  any  of  the  shutters  until  bedtime,  so 
"3 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

that,  standing  high  as  it  does,  the  house  was  a 
landmark  for  miles  around. 

William  listened  to  mother  very  respectfully, 
and  at  the  end  he  said: 

"Yes,  madam,  while  you're  in  mournin'  and  not 
wishful  to  entertain,  it  may  be  as  well."  And 
then  he  added,  in  a  coaxing  tone:  "Now,  Miss 
Marion,  you'll  not  be  forgettin'  all  that  money 
Mr.  Fales  left  me,  goin'  to  waste."  Whenever 
William  wants  to  get  something  out  of  mother 
he  calls  her  "Miss  Marion,"  because  it  reminds 
them  both  of  father,  I  suppose. 

But  mother  shook  her  head.  She  couldn't 
take  William's  money  to  pay  for  lights  we  didn't 
need  the  least  in  the  world,  and  the  part  of  the 
house  that  was  left  gave  us  more  room  than  we 
could  possibly  use.  The  apartment  we  had  in 
Paris  would  have  fitted  neatly  in  one  corner  of 
the  hall,  so  we  didn't  feel  cramped  for  space. 

Once  it  was  done  there  was  no  murmuring  from 
William.  He  made  the  best  of  everything  for  our 
sakes,  and  I  know  he  kept  the  other  servants 
from  gossiping,  for  I  overheard  him  saying  one 
day: 

"When  Miss  John  comes  out  we'll  have  the 
greatest  doin's  the  old  place  ever  saw.  Mean- 
while the  madam  is  thinkin'  it  attracts  too  much 
attention  to  so  young  a  lady  to  keep  things  as  they 
were  when  we  had  a  master  here.  It's  better 
"4 


THE    GREAT-AUNTS    HELP 

taste  to  live  quiet — and  mind  you  remember  that 
when  you're  talkin'  to  the  servants  of  the  neigh- 
borhood ! "  But  all  the  time  William  was  longing 
for  the  lights  and  gayety  of  the  old  days. 

The  first  winter  passed  quickly;  then  came  the 
spring,  and  I  can't  tell  you  how  lovely  Fales  is  at 
that  time  of  the  year,  nor  the  pleasure  there  is  in 
gathering  your  own  wild-flowers.  The  whole  place 
is  full  of  them,  from  the  arbutus,  which  comes  up 
sometimes  while  the  snow  is  still  on  the  ground, 
to  the  fringed  gentian,  springing  up  in  the  autumn 
when  you  have  ceased  to  look  for  flowers. 

During  the  summer  mother  and  I  were  out-of- 
doors  every  day  that  it  didn't  rain,  often  taking 
our  lunch  with  us  and  having  a  little  picnic  all  to 
ourselves  on  the  gray  rocks  under  the  beeches. 
I  had  never  been  so  happy  in  my  life  before, 
for  you  know  mother  isn't  so  grown  up  that  she 
can't  pretend  things,  especially  in  the  woods,  and 
for  weeks  we  forgot  all  about  our  money  troubles. 

But  when  it  came  time  for  school  again,  I 
began  to  consider  how  expensive  Miss  Varnum's 
was,  and,  after  a  long  talk,  we  decided  it  would 
be  wiser  to  save  that  money  to  help  pay  the  taxes 
that  were  due  the  first  of  the  year  and  for  me  to  go 
to  the  public  school  near  Fales.  Mother  hated 
to  give  her  consent  to  this  plan,  but  I  pointed  out 
to  her  that  I  knew  two  languages  besides  English, 
and  could  even  chatter  a  little  in  Italian,  and  as 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

these  were  the  only  accomplishments  I  was  ever 
likely  to  have  under  any  circumstances,  she  finally 
decided  that  we"  ought  to  save  every  penny  we 
could. 

We  thought  this  matter  all  settled  when  the 
great-aunts,  who  had  just  returned  from  Newport, 
came  to  Fales  in  a  state  of  suppressed  excite- 
ment. 

"We  have  seen  our  lawyer — "  Aunt  Martha 
announced,  with  much  importance. 

"And  he  says — "  Aunt  Selina  began. 

"That  we  are  entirely  within  our  rights,"  Aunt 
Caroline  interrupted. 

"Which,  you  will  appreciate,"  Aunt  Henrietta 
said,  deliberately,  "makes  the  plan  perfectly 
feasible." 

Mother  and  I  smiled,  and  waited  to  find  out 
what  this  plan  might  be;  but  the  great -aunts 
went  on  talking  so  fast  that  I  am  going  to  put  it 
down  the  way  they  do  in  plays. 

AUNT  MARTHA.  But  the  startling  part  of  it  is 
that  we  all  thought  of  it  at  the  same  time. 

AUNT  SELINA.  Which  really  makes  one  specu- 
late on  telepathy — a  new  -  fangled  idea  I  never 
approved  of. 

AUNT  CAROLINE.  I  should  hope  not.  You 
would  soon  be  coming  to  mediums  and  ghosts. 
Thank  fortune,  Fales  has  never  had  a  ghost. 

AUNT  HENRIETTA.  You  will  understand,  John 
116 


THE    GREAT-AUNTS    HELP 

dear,  that  as  a  family  we  all  died  in  our  beds 
with  easy  consciences. 

MYSELF.  Yes,  Aunt  Henrietta. 

AUNT  MARTHA.  But  you  know,  my  dear,  that 
there  are  people  who  pride  themselves  on  their 
family  ghosts.  There  were  the  Trevors  of  Trevors* 
Court,  Virginia.  Their  ghost  used  to  ride  in  on 
horseback,  and  visit  the  head  of  the  house  in  bed 
to  advise  him  when  anything  of  unusual  importance 
was  about  to  happen. 

AUNT  SELINA.  Which  I  never  could  think  was 
good  breeding.  The  mistress  of  the  house  must 
have  been  obliged  to  draw  the  covers  over  her 
head  while  the  ghost  was  in  the  room. 

AUNT  MARTHA.  That's  neither  here  nor  there, 
Selina.  The  Trevors  were  as  proud  as  peacocks 
over  that  ghost,  and  it  is  whispered  that  he  did 
them  many  a  good  turn.  They  were  Tories 
during  the  Revolution  until  he  warned  them  that 
General  Washington  would  win. 

AUNT  CAROLINE.  My  dear  sister,  that  is  mere 
hearsay  and  gossip. 

AUNT  MARTHA.  I  did  not  expect  any  one  to 
infer  that  I  was  present  in  person  during  General 
Washington's  time. 

AUNT  HENRIETTA.  Sisters,  suppose  I  tell  Ma- 
rion the  privilege  we  wish  to  request  of  her. 

AUNT  MARTHA.     Haven't  we  been  telling  her  ? 

AUNT  SELINA.  Could  we  have  made  it  clearer  ? 
117 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

AUNT  CAROLINE.  You  understand  perfectly, 
don't  you,  Marion  ? 

MOTHER  [laughing].  Dearest  aunts,  I  suspect 
I'm  very  stupid,  but  really  I  have  no  idea  what 
you  are  talking  about. 

AUNT  HENRIETTA.  There! 

THE  OTHER  THREE  [together].  Now,  Marion, 
of  course  you  know. 

MOTHER.  No,  really  I  don't. 

AUNT  MARTHA.  Then  John  Fales  knows  ? 

MYSELF.  No,  I  don't. 

AUNT  MARTHA  [after  a  pause  in  which  the 
aunts  had  looked  helplessly  at  each  other].  Hen- 
rietta, if  you  think  you  can  make  it  plain  perhaps 
you  had  better  do  it,  after  all. 

AUNT  HENRIETTA.  It  is  really  a  very  simple 
matter,  Marion.  Our  allowances  were  left  us 
with  the  provision  that  we  were  not  to  help  in  the 
support  of  Fales.  Of  course,  you  know  that 
father  changed  his  ideas  before  his  death,  and 
now  his  will  defeats  his  dearest  wish.  I  do  not 
have  to  tell  you  this,  I  am  sure.  However,  as 
we  said  before,  our  lawyer  assures  us  that  there  is 
no  other  prohibition,  and  that  otherwise  we  can  do 
as  we  like.  This,  you  see,  makes  the  matter  quite 
easy  and  straightforward,  so  that  we  only  await  your 
consent,  dear  Marion,  to  carry  the  plan  through. 

When  Aunt  Henrietta  had  finished  speaking  the 
other  aunts  nodded  their  heads  approvingly,  and 
118 


THE    GREAT-AUNTS    HELP 

looked  at  mother  for  her  reply.  We  tried  not  to 
laugh,  but  we  just  couldn't  help  it,  for  we  were  as 
far  away  as  ever  from  knowing  what  they  wanted. 
I  think  it  hurt  the  aunts'  feelings  for  a  moment,  but 
when  we  explained,  the  elder  ones  joined  in  at 
Aunt  Henrietta's  expense. 

Finally  Aunt  Martha  said: 

"What  we  want  to  do,  Marion,  is  this — but 
you  must  understand  that  we  make  no  criticism 
of  the  public  schools,  only  John  Fales  should  con- 
tinue at  Miss  Varnum's." 

"Oh,  now  I  see!"  said  mother.  "You  dear 
aunts  are  offering  to  keep  John  at  school,  then  ?" 

"Yes,  of  course,"  they  all  answered  in  chorus. 

"Well,"  mother  went  on,  "if  your  lawyer  is 
sure  it  won't  compromise  your  interests  in  any 
way,  nothing  would  please  me  better.  I  didn't 
like  the  other  plan,  but  I  couldn't  see  my  way  to 
doing  anything  else.  I  can't  make  ten  cents  do 
the  work  of  a  dollar,  try  as  I  will.  And  yet  I  feel 
that  if  I  had  only  had  some  business  training  I  could 
find  a  way  out  of  our  difficulties.  You  don't  know 
how  much  I  reproach  myself  for  my  lack  of  ability." 

"Now  you  mustn't  blame  yourself,"  Aunt 
Martha  protested,  vigorously.  "Women  of  our 
name  are  not  trained  to — ah — commerce."  And 
so  it  was  settled  that  from  then  on  my  dear  great- 
aunts  would  pay  for  my  education,  and  I  went 
back  to  Miss  Varnum's,  after  all. 
9  119 


XVIII 

JACKIE   GETS    EVEN 

OF  course,  having  my  education  provided  for 
was  a  great  weight  off  mother's  mind;  but 
the  money  saved  from  that  didn't  go  a  great  way 
toward  paying  the  taxes,  and  as  the  weeks  went  by 
I  knew  she  was  worrying  more  and  more. 

We  had  an  unusually  cold  snap  at  Thanksgiving 
time — so  cold,  in  fact,  that  the  ponds  were  frozen 
over;  but  although  it  was  quite  solid  around  the 
edges  where  the  water  was  shallow,  it  was  not 
safe  very  far  off  shore. 

As  I  said  before,  we  have  three  ponds  at  Fales: 
first  the  skating-pond,  where,  if  any  one  broke 
through,  they  could  easily  wade  out;  then  the 
duck- pond  that  is  always  kept  open;  and,  lastly, 
the  ice-pond,  which  is  so  very  deep  that  no  one, 
except  the  men  who  cut  it,  is  ever  allowed  to  go  on 
it  at  all. 

Old  Larkin,  the  gardener,  always  looks  after 

the   ponds,  and   when  the  ice  is  strong  enough 

he  runs  up  a  flag  to  show  that  the  skating  is  safe, 

because  we  allow  the  public  to  use  it,  except  on 

120 


JACKIE   GETS    EVEN 

Saturdays,  when  a  lot  of  rough  boys  from  town 
always  spoiled  every  one  else's  fun.  There  is  an 
entrance  to  the  ponds  directly  from  the  lane,  so 
that  strangers  do  not  have  to  go  near  the  house, 
and  great-grandfather  was  always  glad  to  have 
the  boys  and  girls  enjoy  themselves. 

The  Saturday  after  Thanksgiving  I  went  out 
for  a  walk  alone  because  mother  was  busy,  and 
I  had  to  keep  going  pretty  briskly  to  keep  warm. 

I  went  first  to  the  stables,  and  found  Thomas 
with  a  hammer  and  some  nails  on  the  floor  of  the 
carriage-house. 

"It  needs  fixin',  Miss  John,"  he  said,  getting 
slowly  to  his  feet.  "  I've  been  doing  what  I  could, 
but  a  new  floor  we'll  have  to  have  soon,  I'm 
thinkin'." 

Thomas  was  quite  right.  I  could  see  that  for 
myself;  but  there  was  a  family  of  kittens  in  one 
of  the  empty  stalls,  and  I  was  more  interested  in 
them  just  then. 

From  there  I  went  to  the  greenhouses  for  a 
talk  with  Larkin,  who  was  a  particular  friend  of 
mine,  and  found  him  looking  up  at  the  glass 
roof  shaking  his  head  disconsolately. 

"What's  the  matter,  Larkin  ?"  I  asked. 

"Losh,  miss,  thae  irons  are  scalin'  bad,"  he 
answered,  dolefully.  "I  dinna  hold  with  some 
folks  that  metal's  best,  though  there's  nae  doot  it 
haes  its  good  points.  But  here  it  iss,  and  needin* 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

paint  sore  this  minute.  Now,  were  it  wood,  they'd 
no  be  sic  a  hurry  ava,  but  thae's  iron  and  '11 
ruin  in  nae  time  else." 

Certainly  the  white  paint  was  chipping  off  here 
and  there,  showing  brown  spots  on  the  supports. 
What  Larkin  said  was  only  too  true:  the  bare  iron 
would  rust  badly  unless  protected  from  the  moist 
atmosphere  of  the  greenhouses. 

Just  after  I  left  the  conservatories  I  met  the 
man  who  attends  to  the  lawns  about  the  house — 
"Little  William"  we  call  him,  to  distinguish  him 
from  the  real  William. 

"Is  your  mother  at  the  house,  Miss  John?" 
he  asked,  touching  his  hat. 

I  told  him  that  she  was,  and  wanted  to  know  why 
he  wished  to  see  her. 

"It's  that  old  wheelbarrar,  miss,"  he  explained. 
"It's  gone,  and  that's  a  fact.  I've  been  raking 
the  leaves  down  front  by  the  driveway;  but  I  can't 
get  'em  away  without  a  barrar,  and,  miss,  I  ought 
to  have  a  new  rake — " 

But  I  had  left  him.  Everything  was  going  to 
pieces,  it  seemed  to  me,  and  there  was  so  little 
money. 

It  must  have  been  about  twelve  o'clock  then, 
and  as  we  don't  have  luncheon  till  one,  I  decided 
to  make  a  wide  circle  back  to  the  house  by  the 
way  of  the  ponds.  The  path  I  took  leads  from 
the  graperies  down  by  a  large  clump  of  rhododen- 
122 


JACKIE    GETS    EVEN 

drons,  and  then  through  quite  a  grove  of  tall  pines 
carpeted  with  brown  needles.  You  always  find 
a  squirrel  or  two  here  ready  to  beg  for  a  nut,  but 
this  day  I  wasn't  bothering  about  squirrels. 

It  was  the  first  time  I  had  fully  realized  what 
it  meant  to  keep  up  a  place  like  Fales.  It  seemed 
as  if  there  were  always  something  needed  that 
cost  money,  and,  though  I  knew  that  every  one 
about  the  place  was  doing  their  best  to  keep  down 
expenses,  there  were  constantly  repairs  or  new 
materials  required  that  simply  had  to  be  paid  for. 
And  poor  little  mother  had  the  whole  responsibility, 
while  there  I  was,  a  great  big,  useless  girl  with  an 
enormous  appetite,  not  doing  a  thing  to  help  her. 
I  certainly  was  blue  that  day,  I  can  tell  you. 

The  path  winds  about  a  small  knoll,  and  you 
come  very  abruptly  to  the  ice-pond,  so  that  I  was 
brought  suddenly  to  my  surroundings  by  hearing 
a  shrill  voice  call: 

"Hey,  Jimmy,  here's  somebody!" 

It  all  happened  so  quickly  that  I  can  hardly 
tell  you  about  it,  but,  as  I  looked  up,  there  was  a 
small  boy  venturing  out  on  the  ice  in  front  of  me. 
An  older  girl  was  standing  on  the  bank  watching  him. 

The  white  ice  about  the  edges  of  the  pond  was 
quite  solid,  but  beyond  that  there  was  only  a  thin 
film  that  could  not  possibly  bear  any  one. 

When  the  girl  called  the  boy  stopped,  and 
evidently  being  afraid  of  me,  started  toward  the 
123 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

opposite  shore  instead  of  coming  directly  back. 
I  shouted  to  him,  but  it  only  made  him  run  the 
faster,  and  a  moment  later  he  reached  the  thin 
ice,  which  split  up  at  once,  and  in  he  went. 

Crying  to  the  girl  to  go  up  the  path  and  scream 
for  help,  I  threw  myself  flat  on  the  white  ice  and 
slid  over  to  where  the  boy  had  disappeared.  For 
a  moment  there  was  no  sign  of  him;  then  a  red 
coat  came  in  sight,  and  I  grabbed  for  it. 

When  you  read  about  rescues  from  drowning 
the  hero  or  heroine  always  does  it  gracefully,  but 
of  course  I  had  to  get  hold  of  the  wrong  end! 
I  caught  the  boy  by  the  foot,  and  by  the  time  I 
had  succeeded  in  turning  him  round  and  changing 
my  grip  to  hold  him  by  his  arms,  so  that  his  head 
was  out  of  the  water,  I  was  so  tired  I  couldn't  lift 
him  any  farther,  especially  as  he  struggled  every 
minute  to  get  away  from  me. 

The  trouble  was  that,  lying  flat  on  the  edge  of 
the  thicker  ice,  I  was  in  danger  of  breaking 
through  if  I  made  too  much  effort  to  draw  the 
boy  back,  and  I  didn't  care  to  stand  up  for  fear 
it  would  give  way  with  us  both  at  once.  What  I 
tried  to  do  was  to  wriggle  back  like  a  crab  and 
pull  the  boy  out  that  way,  but  I  couldn't  manage  it. 

In  the  mean  time  the  girl  was  standing  on  the 
bank  doing  nothing. 

"Go  up  the  path  and  get  somebody  to  come!" 
I  shouted  to  her. 

124 


JACKIE   GETS    EVEN 

"No,  I  won't!"  she  cried.  "You're  drowndin* 
my  brother!" 

"I'll  come  and  drown  you  if  you  don't  hurry!" 
I  called  back,  desperately;  and  that  scared  her, 
for  she  ran  off,  yelling  at  the  top  of  her  lungs. 

Well,  there  I  was,  reaching  over  the  edge  of 
the  ice,  hanging  on  to  the  boy,  and  wishing  some- 
body would  come  pretty  quickly.  Of  course  my 
arms  were  soaked,  and  the  water  was  flowing 
out  of  the  hole,  wetting  me  through  and  through. 
It  seemed  hours,  though  I  suppose  it  couldn't 
have  been  much  more  than  five  minutes;  but  my 
back  was  aching,  my  arms  almost  numb,  my  hands 
quite  without  feeling,  and  I  simple  had  to  grit  my 
teeth  to  hold  on.  The  small  boy  was  still  strug- 
gling in  spite  of  my  telling  him  to  be  quiet,  but 
his  teeth  started  to  chatter  awfully,  and  I  was  be- 
ginning to  think  he'd  be  frozen,  when  I  heard  the 
sound  of  running  feet,  and  the  next  minute  some 
one  grabbed  my  ankles,  calling  out  at  the  same 
time: 

"Hold  on  for  your  life!" 

I  tightened  my  grip  on  the  boy,  and  was  drawn 
slowly  backward.  There  was  an  awful  moment 
when  I  thought  he  would  never  slip  over  the  edge; 
but  I  held  on,  and  up  he  came  with  a  big  splash. 
A  moment  later  I  was  standing  on  the  bank,  and 
face  to  face  with  Jackie  Fales. 

"Now  we're  even  for  Tangier!"  he  cried. 
125 


XIX 

MRS.    BRADY   IN   TEARS 

I  WAS  so  surprised  to  see  Jackie  that  I  forgot 
that  my  dress  was  soaked,  that  my  teeth 
were  chattering,  and  that  altogether  I  must  have 
looked  very  much  bedraggled. 

"Where  did  you  come  from?"  I  asked,  as  soon 
as  I  had  breath  enough. 

"Never  you  mind  that  now,"  Jackie  answered, 
very  masterfully.  "There  will  be  plenty  of  time 
to  talk  of  that  later.  You  run  home  and  change 
your  clothes.  Run  every  step  of  the  way,  under- 
stand, or  you'll  have  pneumonia." 

"  But  the  little  boy— " 

"I'll  see  to  him,"  said  Jackie.  "Now you  run!" 
and  he  was  so  emphatic  that  I  did  just  as  he  told 
me  to,  without  once  thinking  that  I  was  being 
ordered  about  by  a  boy  who  was  really  younger 
than  I  was. 

However,  Jackie's  advice  was  most  sensible,  and 
by  the  time  I  had  reached  the  house  I  was  quite 
warm,  though  I  was  panting  pretty  hard. 

Fortunately,  mother  isn't  the  kind  to  get  into 
126 


MRS.    BRADY    IN    TEARS 

a  panic  when  the  danger  is  all  over.  She  made 
me  drink  some  hot  broth  and  put  on  dry  clothes, 
so  that  in  a  little  while  I  was  all  right  and  none  the 
worse  for  my  wetting. 

It  was  a  long  time  before  Jackie  returned  to 
tell  us  what  had  happened  to  the  little  boy;  but 
he  came  back  at  last,  and  we  heard  all  about  it 
at  luncheon. 

Jackie  explained  that,  when  I  left,  the  girl 
appeared  again,  and  though  she  hadn't  much 
sense,  she  knew  where  they  had  come  from;  and 
he  made  the  boy  run  the  whole  way  there,  dragging 
him  along  by  the  hand — and  he  must  have  hard 
work,  because  it  was  at  least  a  mile.  I  have 
always  said  that  Jackie  had  as  much  to  do  with 
saving  that  boy's  life  as  I  had,  but  he  was  very 
modest,  and  insists  upon  my  having  all  the  credit. 

The  two  children  were  some  relation  to  the 
coachman  of  the  Carpenters,  who  are  our  nearest 
neighbors.  They  had  come  out  for  the  day, 
visiting  with  their  mother,  who  had  let  them 
wander  off  by  themselves  while  she  stayed  in 
the  house  and  gossipped,  I  suppose. 

"But  the  kid  is  all  right  now,"  Jackie  ended, 
"and  his  mother's  coming  to  thank  you  herself. 
Her  name  is  Mrs.  Brady,  but  you'd  better  watch 
out  or  she'll  kiss  you.  She  did  me  before  I  could 
stop  her,"  and  he  made  a  face  to  show  how  much 
he  disliked  it. 

127 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

We  had  just  finished  luncheon  and  were  going 
out  of  the  dining-room  into  the  hall  when  a  knock 
came  at  the  door,  and  William  admitted  a  very 
large  woman,  who  wanted  to  see  the  "misthress 
of  the  house." 

"There  she  is,"  whispered  Jackie;  but  before 
I  had  time  to  dodge,  Mrs.  Brady  had  rushed  up 
to  me  and  was  kissing  me  explosively. 

"Oh,  me  dear!  me  dear!  how  can  I  show  me 
thankfulness  to  ye  for  riskin'  yer  precious  life  to 
save  me  boy  Jimmy?"  she  exclaimed,  tearfully.  I 
struggled  out  of  her  arms  as  quickly  as  I  could 
without  hurting  her  feelings,  but  I  was  afraid  to 
look  at  Jackie. 

"Oh,  I  didn't  run  any  risk  like  that!"  I  replied. 

"Don't  be  tellin'  me  that,  me  dear,  when  the 
young  gentleman  there  showed  it  to  me,  plain  like 
a  picture,  describin'  how  ye  pulled  me  darlin* 
out,  and  ye  lyin'  flat  on  yer  blessed  stummick!" 
Mrs.  Brady  insisted.  "Modesty's  a  fine  thrait, 
miss,  but  it's  only  in  the  brave  'tis  found.  I  say 
ye  saved  my  boy,  wid  never  a  thought  for  yerself, 
ye  being  a  fine  young  lady  and  him  but  a  pauper, 
as  ye  might  say,  comparin'  ye — and  'tis  a  thankful 
mother  that  '11  have  a  prayer  for  ye  till  her  dyin' 
day!" 

Mrs.  Brady  was  very  tearful  by  this  time,  and 
wiped  her  eyes  with  her  handkerchief  continually. 

"  Ye'll  be  excusin'  me  emotion,  mam,"  she  went 
128 


MRS.   BRADY    IN    TEARS 

on,  addressing  mother.  "Ye'll  be  understandin* 
how  I'm  feelin',  knowin'  me  own  neglect.  Me 
settin'  there  with  Pat's  wife  talkin'  about  the 
fashions,  do  ye  mind,  and  she  showin'  me  a  last 
year's  hat  and  insistin'  it  was  the  latest  thing. 
I  was  just  askin'  her  how  she  could  think  of 
imposin'  on  me,  a  woman  livin'  in  the  city  and 
visitin'  Eight'  Street  every  day  of  me  life,  when  in 
they  comes,  Jimmy  wet  through  wid  his  clothes 
freezin'  to  him  and  the  young  gentleman  makin' 
him  run  every  step  of  the  way  till  the  boy  couldn't 
breath  wid  exertion.  Oh,  me  heart  was  fair  broke 
at  the  thought  of  what  might  have  been — and  me 
talkin'  hats  wid  Pat's  wife!  It's  a  warnin' — a 
warnin'  I'll  be  heedin',  mam!" 

"Well,  the  child  is  safe  now,  so  everything  is 
all  right,"  mother  said,  kindly. 

"Ye'd  not  be  sayin'  that  if  ye  knew  his  father," 
Mrs.  Brady  continued.  "The  rage  he'll  be  in 
when  he  learns  Jimmy  was  a'most  drownded! 
'And  where  was  his  mother?'  he'll  be  askin'. 
'Talkin'  hats  wid  Pat's  wife/  I'll  answer  true  to 
him— and  then  it  '11  begin.  Not  that  he'll  say 
much,  mam,  no  stormin'  and  rantin'  round  and 
soon  done  wid.  No  fear!  He  ain't  Irish  like 
me.  No,  mam,  he  was  born  in  this  country, 
and  is  by  way  of  bein'  soft-spoken  and  a  gentleman 
to  his  own  way  of  thinkin*.  But  the  looks  he'll 
give  me,  mam,  for  months  to  come — looks  that  '11 
129 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

be  goin'  straight  through  me  worse  than  words. 
If  it  had  been  the  girl  I'll  no  be  sayin'  he  wouldn't 
have  felt  it  hard,  too.  But  Jimmy!  he's  the  apple 
of  his  father's  eye.  You'll  be  knowin',  mam,  the 
boys  count  more  than  the  girls."  She  stopped 
again  and  wiped  her  eyes. 

"It  was  a  girl  that  counted  this  time,"  said 
Jackie,  gallantly,  and  I  couldn't  help  being  pleased. 

"  Yer  right  there,  young  gentleman,"  Mrs.  Brady 
hastened  to  reply.  "I'm  not  forgettin',  nor  never 
shall.  It's  the  boy's  father  I'm  thinkin'  of;  he's 
that  ambitious  for  Jimmy.  Ye  see,  mam,  Brady's 
educated,  and  a  finer  hand  wid  a  pen  ye  never 
knew.  Faith,  he  can  write  anything!  And  he's 
always  at  it  when  he  ain't  busy  wid  the  politics. 
Aye,  but  it  '11  be  hard  tellin'  him,  and  the  black 
looks  I'll  get  fer  me  neglect." 

A  few  moments  later  Mrs.  Brady  started  to  go; 
that  is,  she  began  to  walk  toward  the  door,  but 
she  said  a  good  deal  more  before  she  finally  left  us. 

Just  before  she  went  out  I  was  seized  again  and 
kissed. 

"Good-bye,  and  God  bless  ye,  me  dear,  for 
what  ye've  done  this  day!"  she  exclaimed.  "I'm 
an  ignerant  woman,  I  know,  and  out  of  me  place 
in  this  grand  house;  but  it  '11  be  an  honest  prayer 
I'll  be  givin'  on  me  knees  this  night,  and  many  a  night 
to  come.  If  it  wasn't  fer  thinkin'  of  Brady  I'd  feel 
like  singin'!"  and  she  went  away  wiping  her  eyes. 
130 


XX 

OH,  FOR  A  GOLD-MINE! 

IT  was  not  until  Mrs.  Brady  had  gone  that 
Jackie  and  I  had  a  chance  to  talk  together. 
Mother  went  into  the  library  to  write  some  letters, 
while  we  sat  down  before  the  open  fire  in  the  hall. 
You  know,  I  hadn't  seen  much  of  Jackie  since 
his  boarding-school  days — only  now  and  then  at 
parties,  and  when  he  came  out  to  Fales  for  the 
reading  of  great-grandfather's  will;  but  that  was 
enough  to  show  me  he  had  changed  very  much. 
Of  course,  he  had  grown,  and  was  quite  tall  for 
his  age  and  wore  long  trousers;  but  he  was  very 
different  in  other  ways,  and  wasn't  spoiled  a  bit 
any  more.  Perhaps  you  have  guessed  that  in 
spite  of  our  quarrelling  when  we  were  children,  I 
really  always  liked  Jackie,  and  now  I  couldn't 
help  being  a  little  curious  about  him.  I  think 
I  rather  expected  that  he  would  put  on  airs  and 
try  to  patronize  me  because  I  was  a  girl,  which  I 
shouldn't  have  been  able  to  stand;  but  he  didn't 
at  all,  and  I  might  just  as  well  tell  you  now  that 
we  are  the  very  best  of  friends  to  this  day. 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

"I  guess  you  were  .surprised  to  see  me?"  he 
began. 

I  owned  that  I  was.  "I  didn't  believe  your 
mother  would  let  you  come,"  I  added. 

"Oh,  mamma's  all  right,"  he  answered.  "She 
was  just  hipped  about  Fales.  You  see,  she  was 
so  sure  we  were  going  to  have  it  that  it  was  a 
great  disappointment  to  her  at  first.  You  can 
understand  that." 

"Yes,  I  can,"  I  agreed. 

"Well,"  Jackie  went  on,  "mamma  is  getting 
over  that.  She  and  dad  and  I  talked  it  all  out. 
At  first  she  sort  of  looked  upon  you  and  Cousin 
Marion  as  our  mortal  enemies.  She  wouldn't  hear 
of  my  coming,  though  I  wanted  to  awfully  last 
summer  before  we  went  to  Newport.  Then  last 
night  when  I  asked  again  if  I  couldn't  go  to  see 
you,  dad  told  her  that  the  way  she  was  acting 
wasn't  like  herself,  'cause  really  mamma  isn't 
selfish  one  bit,  and  she's  gotten  over  thinking  I'm 
so  precious.  Then  father  pointed  out  to  her  that 
if  your  mother  didn't  mind,  she  shouldn't;  and 
mamma  finally  gave  in  and  said  he  was  right, 
and  we  wouldn't  think  any  more  about  it.  So  I 
came  straight  off,  and  I  hope  you'll  let  me  come 
again." 

I  told  Jackie  of  course  he  could  come  again 
whenever  he  wanted  to,  and  that  there  were  lots 
and  lots  of  things  at  Fales  I  just  longed  to  show 
132 


OH,   FOR    A   GOLD-MINE! 

him.  We  talked  about  school  and  other  things 
for  a  while,  but  I  noticed  that  every  now  and 
then  he  looked  as  if  he  wanted  to  tell  me  some- 
thing, only  he  didn't  know  how. 

"Say,"  he  began,  suddenly,  "father  thinks 
you're  a  good  sport  for  keeping  Fales,  and  he  said 
a  lot  of  other  nice  things  about  you." 

For  some  reason  this  made  me  feel  very  much 
embarrassed,  and  I  couldn't  find  anything  to  reply. 

"Father  said,"  Jackie  went  on,  "I  was  to  tell 
you  he  hoped  you  would  be  able  to  pull  through 
and  hold  it,  although  he  didn't  see  how  you  could. 
Anyway,  if  the  worst  comes  to  the  worst,  and  you 
have  to  sell,  I'll  give  you  the  two  millions  just  the 
same.  I  wanted  to  give  it  all  back  to  you  without 
Fales,  but  father  says  that  isn't  possible  till  I 
come  of  age,  and  maybe  that's  too  long  to  wait." 

"Oh,  Jackie!"  1  cried,  "I'm  awfully  obliged  to 
you  and  your  father,  and  I  know  mother  will  be 
too;  but  1  do  hope  we'll  be  able  to  keep  Fales." 

"So  do  I,"  said  Jackie,  heartily. 

"I'd  a  lot  rather  have  it  than  all  the  money  in 
the  world!"  I  went  on.  "Why,  the  only  thing  I 
want  money  for  is  to  spend  it  on  the  place,  and, 
Jackie,  you  don't  know  how  much  it  takes!  1 
didn't  realize  myself  till  to-day.  Why,  there's  the 
carriage-house  needs  a  new  floor  this  minute,  and 
Larkin  says  we'll  have  to  paint  the  conservatories 
or  they'll  all  fall  to  pieces — and  there's  something 
133 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

all  the  time.  Where  the  money  is  coming  from  I 
don't  know  —  and  pretty  soon  there'll  be  taxes. 
What  would  you  do  if  you  were  I  ?" 

Jackie  looked  thoughtfully  into  the  fire. 

"Have  you  thought  of  buried  treasure?"  he 
whispered. 

"Yes,"  I  answered,  shaking  my  head  discon- 
solately —  "yes,  I  thought  of  that  at  once,  and 
looked  everywhere,  but  it  wasn't  any  good. 
Mother  says  she  knows  there  isn't  any." 

"Well,  how  about  jewels  and  gold  in  a  secret 
drawer?"  Jackie  suggested,  unwilling  to  give  up 
a  cherished  idea. 

Again  I  had  to  shake  my  head.  "Great- 
grandfather gave  me  all  the  jewels  the  day  before 
he  died,  but  I  couldn't  sell  them,  Jackie.  They 
were  great-grandmother's." 

"No,  of  course  you  couldn't,"  Jackie  agreed. 
"Well,  then,"  he  continued,  coming  down  from 
the  romantic  to  the  practical,  "  why  can't 
you  make  pickles  and  jam,  and  be  rich  for- 
ever?" 

"Oh,  Jackie!"  I  exclaimed.  "Think  of  turning 
Fales  into  a  pickle  factory!  Great-grandfather 
would  never  have  consented  to  that!  Besides, 
mother  says  it  is  just  as  important  to  keep  up 
our  traditions  as  it  is  to  paint  the  house  or  put 
in  new  drains."  Jackie  sighed,  very  reluctant  to 
give  up  such  a  promising  idea. 
134 


OH,   FOR    A    GOLD-MINE! 

"I  don't  suppose  Cousin  John  would  have  liked 
it,"  he  admitted.  "  But  all  the  same,  'Fales  Pickles 
and  Jams*  sound  as  if  they  would  be  good,  though 
I'm  afraid  it  wouldn't  do.  Have  you  thought  of 
anything  else  ?" 

"Lots  of  things,"  I  told  him,  "but  none  of  them 
are  any  good." 

"I'll  tell  you  what  we'll  do,  John  Fales." 
Jackie  said,  finally.  "  I've  got  to  go  back  to  school 
to-morrow  night,  but  I'll  come  out  during  the 
Christmas  vacation  if  you'll  let  me,  and  between 
now  and  then  I'll  certainly  think  of  something 
that  will  make  a  lot  of  money.  You  keep  think- 
ing, too,  and  then  we'll  have  time  to  try 
whatever  we  decide  on  before  the  holidays  are 
over." 

So  we  settled  on  that  plan,  and  when  mother 
come  in  we  told  her.  She  said  she  would  try  to 
help,  and  Jackie  and  I  felt  pretty  sure  that  one  of 
us  would  soon  hit  on  a  fine  scheme. 

Before  he  went  away  mother  invited  him  to 
visit  us  whenever  he  wished  to  come  and  to  stay 
as  long  as  he  liked,  which  I  knew  pleased  him 
awfully,  because  he  blushed  and  said  he'd  "love 
to." 

"I  certainly  do  like  Jackie,"  I  told  mother,  as 
we  watched  him  go  away. 

"He  seems  like  a  very  nice  boy,  indeed,"  mother 
agreed. 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

When  I  told  her  of  our  conversation  and  how 
he  had  offered  to  buy  Fales  at  any  time  for  two 
millions,  she  was  very  thoughtful  for  a  while,  and 
then  murmured,  as  if  to  herself: 

"He  is  a  nice  boy!" 


XXI 

JACKIE   AND    I    GO    PROSPECTING 

THE  days  between  Thanksgiving  and  Christ- 
mas passed  quickly,  although  not  very  hap- 
pily, because  I  could  see  that  mother  began  to  worry 
more  and  more  over  our  money  troubles.  She 
couldn't  forget  those  taxes  that  ought  to  be  paid 
the  first  of  the  new  year.  I  tried  my  best  to  com- 
fort her,  feeling  that  it  was  really  all  my  fault — 
first,  for  not  being  a  boy  (which  I  couldn't  help); 
and,  second,  for  not  being  willing  to  give  up  Fales 
(which  I  could).  But  mother  wouldn't  hear  of 
my  blaming  myself,  and  pretended  to  be  just  as 
cheerful  as  ever,  saying:  "We'll  see,  dearie," 
whenever  I  mentioned  the  subject.  Still,  I  could 
tell  she  was  bothering  awfully,  and — oh!  how  I 
wished  I  could  do  something  to  help  her! 

The  great-aunts  came  to  see  us  very  often, 
sometimes  staying  for  a  day  or  two,  and  I  know 
there  were  serious  consultations  in  the  library 
after  I  had  gone  to  bed;  but  I  could  tell  that 
nothing  ever  came  of  them,  for  when  they  went 
away  there  was  always  a  solemn  shaking  of  heads 
137 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

that  meant,  just  as  plainly  as  if  they  had  said  it: 
"Oh,  why  wasn't  she  a  boy?" 

You  mustn't  think  that  the  great-aunts  didn't 
love  me.  They  did,  and  I  loved  them  very  dearly; 
but  they  were  thinking  of  Fales,  knowing  that  it 
would  never  be  the  same  to  them  if  it  changed 
owners,  and  I  sympathized  with  them  entirely. 
For  the  first  time  in  my  life  I  was  beginning  to 
wish  I  had  been  a  boy! 

You  wouldn't  believe  how  hard  I  racked  my 
brains  trying  to  think  of  some  scheme  for  making 
money,  and,  as  the  time  grew  shorter  and  shorter, 
I  became  so  desperate  that  even  Jackie's  pickle 
and  jam  factory  began  to  seem  possible. 

At  last  I  spoke  to  mother  about  it,  and  she 
laughed  so  hard  over  the  idea  that  it  almost  hurt 
my  feelings. 

"But,  mother,  we  must  do  something!"  I  ex- 
claimed, on  the  verge  of  tears. 

"Dearie,"  mother  said,  putting  her  arms  about 
me,  "we  will  do  the  best  we  can.  That's  what 
we  planned  to  do  in  the  beginning,  and  I  believe 
we  have  done  as  well  as  anybody  could  under  the 
circumstances.  That  is  a  comfort  at  least,  dearie, 
isn't  it  ?  If  we  have  to  leave  Fales  we  can  remem- 
ber all  our  lives  that  we  didn't  surrender  without 
a  struggle." 

"Are  you  trying  to  think  of  something,  mother  ?" 
I  asked. 

138 


JACKIE    AND    I    GO    PROSPECTING 

"Just  as  hard  as  ever  I  can,"  she  replied. 

"Well,  then,  our  only  hope  is  in  Jackie,  for  I 
can't  think  of  a  thing!"  I  answered  mournfully. 

"At  any  rate,  we'll  not  give  it  up  yet,"  mother 
said,  cheerfully,  though  I  knew  she  was  saying 
it  just  to  keep  me  from  being  downhearted. 

Jackie  wrote  very  politely,  telling  us  he  would 
come  out  on  the  Monday  before  Christmas  if 
"it  was  convenient." 

I  met  him  at  the  door,  and  the  very  first  ques- 
tion I  asked  him  was:  "Have  you  thought  of  any- 
thing ?" 

"No,  I  haven't,"  he  answered,  shaking  his  head. 

Now,  it's  a  funny  thing,  but  for  the  moment  I 
didn't  know  whether  to  be  glad  or  sorry.  If  he 
had  had  an  inspiration  I  should  have  felt  very 
much  humiliated,  because  it  would  have  seemed 
to  prove  that  a  boy  was  all  that  was  needed;  on 
the  other  hand,  I  felt  as  if  my  last  resource  had 
failed  me. 

"We  haven't  either,"  I  told  him,  as  we  went 
inside. 

"I  should  have  said,"  Jackie  explained,  "that 
I  haven't  thought  of  anything  yet.  Of  course,  I 
haven't  given  up  hope  by  any  means,  but  I  have 
decided  it  would  be  better  to  go  over  the  place 
first.  You  know  a  great  general  always  takes  his 
resources  into  account  before  giving  battle,  so  I 
would  like  to  look  over  the  ground." 
139 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

He  said  this  with  such  an  air  of  confidence  that  I 
was  almost  hopeful,  though  what  he  could  expect 
to  find  was  more  than  I  could  imagine. 

"We'll  go  after  luncheon,"  I  said. 

We  explored  every  nook  and  cranny  of  what  in 
the  old  days  was  called  the  "Home  Farm,"  and 
Jackie  was  most  curious.  He  didn't  have  much 
to  say,  but  he  looked  very  carefully  wherever  we 
went,  as  if  he  were  searching  for  something  val- 
uable. When  I  asked  him  what  this  was,  he  merely 
replied  that  he  was  still  "going  over  the  ground," 
and  I  had  to  be  satisfied  with  that. 

On  our  return  he  seemed  very  sober,  and 
wanted  to  know  if  he  had  been  all  over  the 
estate. 

"Oh  no!  there's  lots  more,"  I  told  him.  "Why, 
I've  never  been  to  the  farthest  boundaries  myself. 
It's  too  far  for  mother,  and  she  never  wished  me  to 
go  alone." 

At  this  Jackie  cheered  up  at  once. 

"Good!"  he  exclaimed.  "Now  I'll  tell  you 
what,  John  Fales.  I've  come  to  the  conclusion 
that  you  know  all  about  the  places  near  the  house 
already,  so  there's  no  use  of  my  trying  to  make 
any  discoveries  there:  but  to-morrow  I  want  to  go 
to  the  farthest  boundaries." 

"But  it  will  take  all  day,  Jackie,"  I  told  him. 

"Well,  we  can  have  a  picnic,  then,"  he  suggested. 
"Maybe  it's  a  little  cold;  but  we  can  wear  our 
140 


JACKIE    AND    I    GO    PROSPECTING 

sweaters,  and  you  don't  know  what  I  may  find  in 
those  woodlands." 

"What  could  there  be?"  I  demanded,  scepti- 
cally. 

"Gold-mines!"  said  Jackie;  but  I  shook  my 
head. 

"Well,  now,  without  joking,"  he  went  on,  "there 
might  be  coal  or  oil.  I've  heard  that  people  get 
disgustingly  rich  out  of  oil." 

"But,  Jackie,  no  one  ever  found  such  things 
in  this  part  of  the  country,"  I  protested. 

"Now,  don't  be  discouraging,  John  Fales!"  he 
replied.  "If  we  knew  there  was  coal  down  there 
we  wouldn't  deserve  much  credit  for  paying  people 
to  dig  it  out.  It's  because  we  don't  know  that 
we're  going  exploring.  You  can't  discover  a  thing 
if  you  know  where  it  is  already." 

Jackie  was  so  much  in  earnest  that  I  listened 
with  respect.  Moreover,  I  remembered  that  there 
were  some  very  black  stones  in  one  of  the  hollows, 
but  the  thought  of  coal  had  never  entered  my 
head.  Perhaps,  after  all,  it  did  need  a  man  to 
have  large  ideas. 

Mother  consented  to  our  taking  the  trip,  al- 
though she  vetoed  our  suggestion  to  take  a  gun  in 
case  of  wolves  or  wildcats.  She  said  she  didn't 
believe  there  were  many  of  either  around  German- 
town;  besides,  a  gun  would  be  heavy,  and  she 
would  feel  safer  if  we  weren't  hampered  in  any 
141 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

way.  She  wanted  us  to  be  sure  to  get  back  home 
before  dark. 

Tuesday  was  not  too  cold,  and  a  fine  clear  day 
with  a  splendid  blue  sky  and  fat  white  clouds 
overhead.  I  was  outside  looking  up  at  them 
when  mother  sent  Jackie  to  call  me  to  breakfast. 

"Good-morning,  Girl,  come  to  breakfast  right 
away!"  he  cried;  and  then  he  added:  "Stop 
looking  up  at  the  sky  like  that,  because  when  you 
do  I  know  you're  thinking  of  balloons,  and  I  don't 
like  it." 

"Really,  I  wasn't,  Jackie,"  I  returned,  laughing. 
"I  was  only  glad  we  were  going  to  have  such  a 
fine  day  for  our  exploring." 

All  the  same  it  did  sound  funny  to  have  him  call 
me  "Girl"  as  he  used  to  in  Rittenhouse  Square 
before  he  knew  my  name,  and  I  must  confess  that 
for  the  rest  of  the  morning  at  least  I  did  think  of 
balloons  whenever  I  looked  up  at  the  sky,  but  of 
course  I  didn't  say  anything  more  about  them. 

We  hurried  through  breakfast,  and  William 
gave  us  a  nice  big  package  of  lunch  tied  up  in 
paper,  so  that  we  didn't  have  a  basket  to  bother 
with  coming  back.  Mother  said  "Good-bye"  to 
us  at  the  door,  and  in  a  few  minutes  we  were  out 
of  sight  of  the  house  and  entering  the  woods. 

I  can't  think  why  more  people  don't  go  into  the 
woods  in  winter.  Truly,  it  is  fine.  We  found 
checkerberries  and  partridge-berries  under  the 
142 


JACKIE    AND    I    GO    PROSPECTING 

leaves,  and  even  a  few  chestnuts.  We  had  a 
watch  and  a  compass,  and  we  made  believe  at 
first  that  we  were  early  settlers  searching  for  a 
place  to  build  our  cabin,  and  we  looked  so  hard 
for  Indians  that  we  both  began  to  grow  a  little 
nervous  before  we  had  done.  We  had  luncheon 
on  top  of  a  big  rock  in  the  sun — and  why  is  it 
that  everything  tastes  so  awfully  good  out-of-doors  ? 
We  kept  some  fruit  and  cake  for  afternoon  tea 
later  on,  but  we  ate  everything  else  up  until  there 
was  hardly  a  crumb  for  the  birds.  Afterward  we 
went  on,  feeling  ever  so  much  more  hopeful.  It 
is  really  queer  what  a  help  a  good  luncheon  is 
when  you  are  exploring. 

But  we  didn't  find  anything  except  trees  and 
squirrels  and  birds — nothing  that  seemed  even 
remotely  to  help  to  make  a  fortune  for  a  girl  who 
needed  one. 

"I  tell  you  what  let's  be  now,"  Jackie  said,  as 
we  climbed  a  high  ridge.  "Let's  be  Forty-niners! 
We'll  pretend  we've  come  round  the  Horn  to 
California,  and  we  are  up  in  the  mountains  search- 
ing for  gold.  I  wish  we  had  a  gun,  it  would  seem 
more  real,  though  perhaps  it  ought  to  be  a  flint-lock. 
Do  you  remember  if  they  used  flint-locks  in  '49  ?" 

I  didn't  know,  but  I  entered  into  the  game  with 
enthusiasm.  Jackie  was  a  playmate  after  my  own 
heart. 

We  were  getting  well  over  to  the  southwest 
H3 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

boundary  when  I  suddenly  stopped,  holding  my 
breath.  For  a  moment  I  thought  it  was  the  Ind- 
ians for  whom  we  had  been  looking  so  earnestly. 
A  thin  spiral  of  smoke  was  ascending  through  the 
still  air,  and  we  could  make  out  figures  around  a 
fire  in  a  hollow  below  us. 

I  pointed  it  out  to  Jackie,  who  suggested  that  we  re- 
tire behind  some  rocks  to  consult  before  they  saw  us. 

"Now  if  I  only  had  my  trusty  rifle,"  he  said,  re- 
gretfully, "I  could  pick  them  off  from  here — one 
by  one." 

"Nonsense!"  said  I;  "stop  fooling,  Jackie.  I 
want  to  know  what  all  these  men  are  doing  on  my 
place."  The  landed  proprietor  in  me  was  awake. 

"Oh,  I  guess  they  are  tramps,"  said  Jackie, 
easily,  "or  perhaps  robbers,  come  here  to  divide 
their  booty.  Say,  we'd  better  watch  where  they 
hide  it.  When  they've  gone  we'll  get  it,  and  your 
troubles  will  all  be  ended." 

"Please  stop  fooling,  Jackie,"  I  said  again. 
"This  is  serious,  and  robbers  only  meet  at  dead  of 
night.  Anyway,  I'm  going  to  see  what  they  are 
doing."  And,  without  more  ado,  I  plunged  down 
the  hillside  with  Jackie  following  me,  and  by  the 
time  the  bottom  was  reached  we  had  acquired  such 
momentum  that  we  entered  that  camp  like  two 
small  thunderbolts. 

Pulling  up  short,  I  regarded  the  sight  before  me 
in  utter  amazement. 

144 


XXII 

BETTER  THAN   A   GOLD-MINE 

IT  was  perfectly  plain,  even  to  my  ignorant  eyes, 
that  we  had  tumbled  into  a  surveyor's  camp. 
There  were  six  or  eight  men  busy  about  the  fire 
packing  things  into  square  leather  cases.  Near 
them,  in  parallel  lines,  were  a  number  of  little 
white  stakes,  driven  into  the  ground,  extending  as 
far  as  we  could  see  and  finally  disappearing  into 
the  woods  at  each  end.  There  were  two  queer 
things,  like  telescopes  standing  on  three  legs,  and 
several  long  poles,  striped  alternately  red  and 
white,  lying  about  in  the  midst  of  a  confusion  of 
chains,  hatchets,  and  other  objects  quite  unknown 
to  me. 

The  racket  we  made  evidently  surprised  them, 
for  they  stopped  their  work,  and,  for  a  moment, 
we  stared  at  one  another  in  silence. 

"What  are  you  doing  here  ?"  I  burst  out,  finally. 

One  of  the  men,  wearing  a  gray  sweater,  lifted 
his  soft  hat,  and,  leaving  the  others  to  resume  pack- 
ing, came  over  to  us. 

"I  think  I  might  better  ask,  'Where  do  you  come 
H5 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

from,  young  lady  ?' "     I  knew  at  once  from  the  way 
he  spoke  that  he  was  a  gentleman. 

"Oh!"  I  exclaimed,  a  little  embarrassed,  "we 
just  came  down  the  hill.  Did  you  think  we  had 
dropped  from  the  skies  ?" 

"I  wasn't  sure,"  he  answered,  with  a  smile. 

"Well,  now  it's  your  turn,"  I  said.  "Who  gave 
you  permission  to  survey  through  here  ?" 

"Really,  you  know,  we  didn't  ask  permission," 
he  replied,  gravely,  although  I  could  see  he  was 
amused.  "A  railroad  goes  where  it  wants  to, 
whether  the  property  owners  like  it  or  not.  If 
that  wasn't  so  there  wouldn't  be  many  built,  and 
poor  fellows  like  I  am  wouldn't  make  their  salt — 
much  less  bread  and  butter." 

"Do  you  mean  to  say  that  a  railroad  can  come 
along  and  cross  my  land  anywhere  it  wants  to  ?" 
I  demanded,  indignantly. 

"I'm  afraid  I  do,"  he  replied;  "that  is,  of  course, 
if  you  own  any." 

"This  is  my  cousin's  place  you  are  on  now," 
Jackie  remarked.  He  had  been  quiet  all  this 
time,  being  very  much  interested  in  what  the  other 
men  were  doing. 

"  Is  it,  indeed  ?"  said  the  man,  politely,  "  I  hope 
he  will  be  glad  to  hear  that  the  road  is  really  going 
through.  This  is  the  final  survey,  and  the  work 
is  to  be  rushed.  He'll  be  surprised  to  find  how 
soon  we'll  have  the  trains  running." 
146 


BETTER    THAN    A    GOLD-MINE 

"Do  you  mean,"  I  cried,  excitedly,  "that  a  rail- 
road can  come  along  and  steal  my  land — give  me 
nothing  for  it?" 

"No,  no,  my  dear  young  lady,"  he  returned, 
easily.  "If  a  railroad  crosses  your  property  you 
will  receive  a  fair  price  for  all  they  appropriate — 
but  perhaps  this  road  won't  go  near  your  place." 

"Didn't  Jackie  just  tell  you  that  this  is  my 
place?"  I  explained,  adding:  "But  I  don't  want 
any  old  railroad  on  it." 

"  I  guess  you  are  getting  your  boundaries  mixed," 
the  man  said.  "This  is  the  old  Fales  place,  and 
belongs  to  Mr.  John  Fales." 

"Well,"  said  I,  "that's  me.  I  mean  I'm  it- 
John  Fales.  Of  course,  it  seems  funny  for  a  girl, 
but  I  am  one,  you  see,  and  if  you  don't  believe  it 
you  can  ask  Jackie." 

"Surely  I  believe  you,"  he  hastened  to  say, 
casting  a  glance  after  Jackie,  whose  curiosity  had 
drawn  him  near  the  camp,  where  he  was  already 
busy  making  friends  with  the  other  men. 

"Well,  then,"  I  went  on,  "you  can  understand 
how  awfully  interested  I  am.  Would  it  be  much 
of  a  bother  to  you  if  I  ask  you  some  more  questions 
about  this  railroad  ?  I  want  to  know  where  it 
goes,  and  who  pays  for  it,  and — and,  oh,  lots  of 
things!" 

The  man  looked  at  his  watch,  and,  excusing 
himself  for  a  minute,  went  back  to  the  camp 
H7 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

where  he  gave  some  orders,  returning  at  once  to 
me. 

"Since  I  know  your  name,"  he  began,  "perhaps 
you  ought  to  know  mine.  I'm  George  Seymore, 
in  charge  of  locating  the  right  of  way  on  this 
division.  Now,  if  you  care  to  take  a  little  walk 
up  the  line,  I  think  I  can  make  it  clear  to  you  how 
the  road's  coming  through  here  will  make  your 
property  much  more  valuable." 

"That  may  be,"  I  replied,  as  we  started  off 
together;  "but  if  your  one  idea  in  life  was  to  take 
good  care  of  your  place  for  your  great-grand- 
children, it  would  be  an  awful  blow  to  find  a  rail- 
road you  never  heard  of  grabbing  a  big  slice  of  it." 

"Of  course,  that  makes  a  difference,"  Mr. 
Seymore  acknowledged,  seriously,  "  but  I  think 
you'll  see,  even  from  that  point  of  view,  that  you 
haven't  much  to  worry  about. 

"Now  look,"  Mr.  Seymore  continued,  as  we 
came  to  an  open  space.  "The  railroad  will  go 
along  there  for  about  a  mile  through  the  part  of 
your  property  called  *  White  Marsh/  but,  you  see, 
it  curves  away  to  the  south,  so  that  from  your 
house  and  most  of  your  grounds  you'd  never 
know  there  was  a  railroad  near  you.  That's  true, 
isn't  it?" 

"Yes,"  I  answered,  rather  reluctantly. 

"Well,  now,"  he  went  on,  "you  see  that  cuts 
off  a  good-sized  slice  of  your  land  to  the  south, 
148 


"NOW    LOOK,"    MR.    SEYMORE    CONTINUED.       "THE    RAILROAD    WILL    GO    ALONG 
THERE   FOR    ABOUT    A    MILE" 


BETTER    THAN    A    GOLD-MINE 

and  that,  let  me  tell  you,  young  lady,  ought  to  be 
a  gold-mine!'* 

"A  gold-mine!"  I  cried. 

"Well,  on  second  thought,  I  should  say  it 
would  be  better  than  a  gold-mine — certainly  much 
safer,"  he  answered,  with  exasperating  calmness. 

"What  do  you  mean  ?"  I  gasped. 

"Just  what  I  said,"  he  continued,  with  a  laugh. 
"Don't  you  see,  Miss  Fales,  that  if  the  railroad 
should  build  a  station  in  the  centre  of  White 
Marsh,  you  could  cut  it  up  into  building  lots  and 
sell  them  like  hot  cakes  ?  Any  property  within 
twenty-five  minutes  of  Broad  and  Market  Streets, 
Philadelphia,  will  be  in  instant  demand,  and  you 
would  have  a  commuters'  paradise  all  ready  and 
waiting.  If  you  didn't  want  to  sell  you  could 
build  houses  and  rent  them.  Anyway,  whenever 
you  want  some  money,  all  you  have  to  do  is  to 
make  a  subdivision  south  of  the  road." 

"Why,  I'm  awfully  in  need  of  money  right 
now!"  I  exclaimed,  trying  not  to  jump  up  and 
down  in  my  excitement. 

"Then,"  said  Mr.  Seymore,  "things  are  cer- 
tainly coming  your  way.  But  aren't  we  getting 
a  little  too  earnest  over  this  ?  In  all  probability 
your  guardian  has  settled  the  matter  long  ago. 
It's  too  important  to  be  permitted  to  drag  along. 
Of  course,  there  hasn't  been  any  wide  publicity 
given  to  the  building  of  this  division;  old  Cresson 
149 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

isn't  the  kind  to  serve  a  general  notice  about  the 
things  he  means  to  do;  but  the  property  owners 
have  been  dealt  with,  I'm  certain." 

"  But  my  guardian  doesn't  know  anything  about 
it,"  I  said,  positively. 

"I  think  you  must  be  mistaken,"  Mr.  Seymore 
insisted. 

"No,  I'm  sure,  because,  you  know,  mother 
is  my  guardian,"  I  explained.  "I  was  very 
much  surprised  to  find  that  out,  for  I  had  al- 
ways thought  I  had  to  take  care  of  her.  Of 
course,  you  can  understand  that  if  mother  knew 
we  had  a  gold-mine  she  wouldn't  worry  about 
expenses.  As  it  is,  she  does  worry  awfully;  and 
we've  been  thinking  we  would  have  to  give  up 
Fales  because  we  haven't  money  enough  to  keep 
it." 

"Well,  in  that  case,  Miss  Fales,"  Mr.  Seymore 
said,  "if  I  were  in  your  place  I'd  have  my  lawyers 
take  the  matter  up  with  Mr.  Cresson  at  once.  And 
let  me  give  you  a  bit  of  advice.  You  see,  the  loca- 
tion of  the  station  will  make  all  the  difference  in 
the  world.  A  mile  one  way  or  the  other  won't 
affect  the  railroad,  particularly  in  a  case  like  this, 
but  the  nearer  your  houses  are  to  the  station  the 
more  desirable  they'll  be.  Now  on  our  plans  there 
are  two  sites  marked  for  it :  one  is  on  your  property, 
and  the  other  isn't.  What  you  want  to  do  is  to  get 
the  road  to  put  it  on  your  land;  that  is  the  important 
150 


BETTER    THAN    A    GOLD-MINE 

thing,  you  know.  Give  them  the  ground  and 
build  them  a  station  if  you  have  to;  but — get  the 
station!  After  that  all  you'll  have  to  do  is  sit  back 
and  draw  dividends,  so  to  speak,  and  your  mother 
won't  have  to  worry  any  more." 

We  had  turned  and  were  walking  toward  the 
camp  by  this  time,  and  I  knew  that  I  should  be 
thinking  of  returning  home;  but  it  seemed  as  if 
there  were  a  thousand  things  I  wanted  Mr.  Sey- 
more  to  tell  me.  We  talked  a  little  more  about  it, 
and  he  was  very  nice  indeed — explaining  all  over 
again,  so  that  at  last  I  had  it  pretty  straight. 
Finally  I  asked  him  who  Mr.  Cresson  was. 

"He's  the  President  of  the  P.  Q.  R.  Railroad 
that  is  going  to  develop  your  gold-mine,"  he  an- 
swered. 

I  was  very  grateful  to  Mr.  Seymore,  and  thanked 
him  as  heartily  as  I  knew  how. 

"I'd  like  to  tell  you  how  it  comes  out,"  I  said, 
as  we  shook  hands,  "only  I  suppose  you  won't  be 
here  ?" 

"No,"  he  replied,  "my  work  on  this  division  is 
done;  but  if  you  want  to  get  even,  I'd  be  awfully 
obliged  if  you  would  take  me  over  the  private 
part  of  Fales.  I  understand  it  is  quite  wonder- 
ful." 

"I'd  love  to,"  I  told  him,  "and  I  know  mother 
will  be  glad  to  let  me  when  I  tell  her  how  you've 
discovered  our  gold-mine.  Of  course,  Fales  is 
ii  151 


LITTLE    MISS    PALES 

more  beautiful  in  spring  and  summer.  But  any 
time  you'd  like  to  come  will  suit  me;  for  I  think  it  is 
the  finest  place  in  the  world  always." 

Then  we  said  "Good-bye"  again,  and  Jackie 
and  I  started  for  home. 


XXIII 

SECRETS 

OF  course,  Jackie  was  just  as  much  excited  as 
I  was  when  I  told  him  all  the  news  that  Mr. 
Seymore  had  given  me,  but  he  was  just  like  a  boy, 
and  insisted  upon  taking  all  the  credit  to  himself. 

"I  knew  I  should  discover  something,"  he  said, 
with  a  very  superior  air. 

"Why,  you  didn't  have  anything  to  do  with  it!" 
I  returned.  Jackie  looked  at  me  in  pained  surprise. 

"I'd  like  to  know  how  you'd  have  found  your 
gold-mine  if  it  hadn't  been  for  me  ?"  he  retorted. 

"But,"  I  protested,  "you  were  looking  for  coal 
or  oil." 

"I  was  prospecting,"  said  Jackie,  haughtily. 
"It  might  have  been  diamonds,  for  all  you  could 
tell.  I  didn't  insist  upon  coal  or  oil.  I  just  sug- 
gested them.  It  happened  to  be  a  gold-mine, 
that's  all." 

He  acted  in  such  a  very  self-satisfied  way  that 
I  saw  he  was  only  trying  to  tease  me,  and  laughed. 

"Well,  it  isn't  really  a  gold-mine  anyway!"  I 
said. 

'53 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

"But  let's  pretend  it  is,"  Jackie  exclaimed,  be- 
coming his  normal  self  again.  "We'll  play  we've 
staked  the  White  Marsh  Claim,  and  that  we  are 
going  to  town  for  food  and  ammunition.  We've 
left  our  'pardner'  (that's  Mr.  Seymore)  to  guard 
our  rights  and  to  keep  any  one  from  jumping  our 
claim,  and  he  has  only  two  cartridges  for  his  gun 
left,  so  we  must  hurry." 

Usually  I  would  have  entered  into  Jackie's  plan 
very  heartily,  because  I  liked  to  make  up  stories 
about  the  things  I  did;  it  made  them  so  real,  some- 
how. But  this  matter  was  too  serious,  and  though 
I  tried  to  catch  the  spirit  of  it,  I  don't  believe  I 
succeeded  very  well,  for  in  a  little  while  Jackie  said, 
rather  disgustedly: 

"Oh,  pshaw!  John  Fales,  you're  not  pretending! 
Why,  an  Indian  could  have  come  up  and  scalped 
both  of  us  without  your  ever  knowing  it." 

"Jackie,"  I  confessed,  "I  can't  think  of  any- 
thing but  getting  the  taxes  paid.  If  you  realized 
how  mother  has  worried  about  them,  you'd  under- 
stand. It  makes  so  much  difference  to  us,  Jackie, 
and  it's  very  serious,  you  know." 

"  Of  course,  that's  so,"  he  agreed.  "  Hadn't  we 
better  hurry  up  and  tell  Cousin  Marion  as  quickly 


as  we  can  r 


"Yes!"  I  exclaimed,  and  we  started  off  as  fast 
as  we  could  go.     Presently  we  came  to  the  rock 
where  we  had  eaten  our  luncheon, 
154 


SECRETS 

"Jackie,"  I  said,  stopping  beside  it,  "let's  have 
our  fruit  and  cake.  I  want  to  think." 

"What  about?"  he  questioned. 

"Mother  and  taxes,"  I  replied.  "You  see, 
Jackie,"  I  went  on,  "if  this  gold-mine  doesn't  turn 
out  as  Mr.  Seymore  seems  to  think,  why  mother 
would  be  awfully  disappointed,  wouldn't  she  ?*' 

"That's  so,"  said  Jackie.  "But  suppose  it 
does  turn  out  all  right  ?" 

"That  all  depends  upon  the  station,"  I  replied. 
"  If  we  get  that  where  we  want  it,  everything  will 
be  fine.  If  I  could  arrange  that  myself  we  might 
be  able  to  get  the  money  from  the  railroad  for  going 
through  the  place.  And  think — Jackie — think 
what  a  splendid  Christmas  present  that  would  be 
for  mother!"  As  I  talked  of  this  possibility  I  be- 
came more  and  more  enthusiastic.  What  better 
present  could  be  found  than  a  relief  to  all  the  worry 
and  anxiety  mother  felt  about  Fales  ? 

"Jackie,  I  must  do  it!"  I  exclaimed  two  or  three 
times. 

"  I  don't  see  how  you  can,"  he  answered,  shak- 
ing his  head  dubiously.  "There're  lawyers  and 
deeds  and  things  like  that,  and  you  are  only  a  girl." 

"Yes,  but  Fales  is  mine  whether  I'm  a  girl  or 
not,"  I  said,  a  little  sharply;  and  then  added: 
"What  would  you  do?" 

"I'd  leave  it  to  father,"  he  returned,  humbly. 

"Well,  I  haven't  any  father  to  leave  it  to,"  I  an- 
'55 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

swered,  determined  to  show  him  that  even  a  girl 
wasn't  altogether  helpless.  "Besides,  I  am  the 
only  one  that  can  decide  about  Fales  anyway — you 
know  that.  And  though  mother  would  advise 
me,  I  don't  see  why  I  can't  do  this  myself.  Then 
there's  the  disappointment  if  it  doesn't  turn  out 
right.  There's  no  use  having  two  broken  hearts 
over  it.  At  least,  I'm  going  to  try;  so  don't  you 
say  a  word  about  it  to  mother.  Now,  promise." 

"All  right,"  said  Jackie,  "  I'll  promise;  and  won't 
Cousin  Marion  be  surprised  when  you  say  to  her  on 
Christmas:  'Here's  a  little  gold-mine,  mother,  we 
found  for  you'  ?" 

"We  haven't  got  it  yet,"  I  reminded  him,  for 
Jackie's  imagination  carried  him  over  all  obstacles 
when  it  once  started.  "We  have  to  go  to  town 
to-morrow  and  attend  to  things,  and  I  don't  just 
know  how  to  begin." 

" Go  to  see  Mr.  Sloan,"  said  Jackie.  "  He's  your 
lawyer,  and,  besides,  you  don't  know  how  much 
money  the  railroad  ought  to  give  you  for  taking 
your  land." 

"That's  true,"  I  agreed;  "but  I  think  the  station 
is  most  important,  and  I  can  settle  that  myself. 
No,  I'm  going  to  see  Mr.  Cresson,  the  President  of 
the  P.  Q.  R.  Railroad." 


XXIV 

WE   CALL  ON   A   PRESIDENT 

JACKIE  kept  his  promise  faithfully,  and  never 
even  looked  at  me  when  mother  said  she  was 
very  glad  to  see  us  back  safe  and  sound,  although 
we  didn't  bring  any  gold  nuggets  with  us.  He 
gravely  presented  her  with  a  chestnut,  saying  that 
it  was  better  than  gold  because  you  could  eat  it; 
and  when  mother  found  how  sweet  it  was,  she 
quite  agreed  with  him. 

Of  course,  I  couldn't  help  showing  a  little  excite- 
ment, especially  when  I  told  mother  that  Jackie 
and  I  wanted  to  go  to  town  the  next  day. 

"And,  mother,"  I  ended,  putting  my  arms  about 
her  and  kissing  her,  "you  mustn't  ask  why,  'cause 
it's  surprises  for  Christmas." 

"So  you  two  have  been  doing  more  than  just 
exploring,  I  see,"  said  mother,  with  a  little  laugh. 
"I'm  very  curious." 

"You  will  know  all,  in  good  time,"  I  answered, 
like  a  grown-up  person  to  a  little  child. 

"I  don't  believe  I  can  wait,"  mother  returned, 
pretending  to  be  very  impatient. 
'57 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

*'  But  can  we  have  the  carriage,  Cousin  Marion  ?" 
said  the  practical  Jackie. 

"Will  you  be  sure  to  take  care  of  each  other  and 
not  run  risks  ?"  mother  asked. 

"Oh  yes!"  we  both  assured  her. 

"Then  you  may  have  it,"  mother  said;  "only 
I  don't  want  you  to  go  into  any  of  the  department 
stores.  They  are  too  crowded  at  this  time  of  the 
year." 

We  agreed  to  this,  of  course,  and  everything  was 
settled. 

In  spite  of  being  very  tired  after  my  long  tramp 
in  the  woods,  I  didn't  go  to  sleep  very  quickly  that 
night.  I  confess  it  occurred  to  me  pretty  often, 
as  I  lay  awake  thinking  about  it,  that  perhaps  this 
was  too  serious  a  business  for  children  to  undertake 
all  alone,  but  I  finally  concluded  that  at  worst  it 
wouldn't  do  any  harm.  Then  the  next  thing  I 
knew  the  sun  was  streaming  into  my  window,  and 
it  was  time  to  get  up. 

The  last  word  I  said  to  mother  as  we  drove  away 
was:  "Don't  expect  us  back  to  luncheon.  We 
have  such  a  lot  to  do  that  we  may  go  to  the  great- 
aunts." 

We  waved  good-bye  out  of  the  carriage  window 
and  were  off.  When  we  had  gotten  well  out  of 
sight  of  the  house  I  called  to  Thomas  and  told  him 
where  we  wanted  to  go,  and  then  settled  down  to 
talk, 

158 


WE    CALL    ON    A    PRESIDENT 

"You  know,"  Jackie  began,  "I've  heard  father 
speak  about  this  Mr.  Cresson.  I  was  thinking 
about  it  last  night.  They  call  him  'Crusty 
Cresson/  he's  so  cross." 

This  didn't  cheer  me  very  much,  I  can  tell  you; 
but  I  didn't  mean  to  show  Jackie  that  I  was  get- 
ting a  little  anxious  about  my  interview  with  the 
president  of  a  great  railroad. 

"Father  says  he's  a  wonder,"  Jackie  went  on. 
"He  told  me  that  once  when  there  was  a  wreck 
on  the  road  he  went  to  it  himself  and  took  entire 
charge  of  the  work  of  clearing  the  track,  and  that 
it  was  done  in  half  the  time  it  usually  took.  But 
he  made  the  men  hop  around  so  fast  that  they 
haven't  gotten  over  talking  about  it  since.  He's 
a  collector,  too." 

"What  does  he  collect?"  I  asked. 

"  Oh,  lots  of  things,"  Jackie  continued.  "  He  has 
more  pictures  and  books  and  china  and  jades  and 
railroads  than  any  one  in  the  world,  I  guess.  They 
say  that  people  are  trying  to  sell  him  things  all 
the  time  that  aren't  real — just  forgeries,  you  know; 
but  father  says  you  can't  fool  'Crusty  Cresson.' 
There  is  one  story,  I  remember,  about  a  man 
that  came  to  him  with  an  old,  old  book  beautifully 
bound.  The  covers  were  all  set  with  jewels  and 
precious  stones,  and  I  guess  it  must  have  been 
wonderful.  Mr.  Cresson  made  an  appointment 
with  the  man  at  his  own  house,  and  when  he  saw 
J59 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

the  book  he  looked  it  over  carefully.  'It's  very 
handsome  indeed,'  he  said,  after  a  while,  and  the 
man  who  wanted  to  sell  it  was  much  pleased. 
'The  only  trouble  with  it' — Mr.  Cresson  went  on — 
'is  that  it's  a  forgery,  and  I  haven't  begun  collecting 
those,  though  I  admit  that  would  be  interesting.' 
Well,  the  man  just  raved,  and  insisted  that  the 
book  wasn't  a  forgery,  and  that  Mr.  Cresson  was 
trying  to  ruin  his  reputation.  He  said  the  book 
was  genuine,  and  that  there  were  only  two  copies 
in  existence,  and  that  this  one  was  one  of  them. 
'That's  right,'  Mr.  Cresson  said,  'there  are  only 
two,  and  it  just  happens  that  I  have  both  of  them.' 
And  then  he  went  to  the  bookcase  and  brought 
them  out,  and  showed  the  man  where  his  imitation 
was  defective.  That's  the  kind  of  a  man  Crusty 
Cresson  is,  and  father  says  he  knows  more  about 
different  kinds  of  things  than  any  one  he  ever  heard 
of.  Only  he's  as  cross  as  a  bear,  and  everybody 
is  afraid  of  him." 

These  stories  of  Mr.  Cresson  certainly  worried 
me.  He  didn't  seem  like  the  kind  of  a  man  who 
had  much  time  to  waste  on  a  little  girl — and  I  was 
feeling  very  little  just  then,  in  spite  of  the  fact 
that  I'm  big  for  my  years.  But  I  hadn't  an  idea  of 
backing  out,  and  hoped  he  wouldn't  bite  my  head  off. 

"We  ought  to  have  some  cards,"  Jackie  said, 
presently.  "  He'll  want  to  know  who  we  are  before 
he  lets  us  in." 

160 


WE    CALL    ON    A    PRESIDENT 

In  my  excitement  I  had  forgotten  all  about 
visiting-cards. 

"What  shall  we  do?"  I  exclaimed. 

Jackie  was  looking  into  the  case  fastened  to  the 
front  of  the  carriage. 

"Mamma  always  keeps  hers  in  this  place,"  he 
said;  "and  here  are  some,  only  they  are  your 
mother's  and  cousin  John's." 

"Those  will  do  for  me  —  I  am  John  Fales  of 
Fales,"  I  explained. 

"Well,  I'm  John  Fales,  too,"  Jackie  replied. 

"You  are  only  John  Fales,  Junior,"  I  pointed 
out  to  him.  "You  don't  need  a  card." 

"Oh  yes,  I  do,"  he  insisted. 

"Well,"  I  said,  "you  will  have  to  scratch  out 
the  'Fales,  Germantown,'  and  put  in  a  'Jr.,'  or 
the  president  will  think  it  is  two  cards  belonging 
to  the  same  person." 

We  tried  to  do  this  with  a  pin,  not  having  a 
pencil;  but  it  made  the  card  look  so  untidy  that 
we  finally  decided  to  send  up  two  alike  and  explain 
afterward. 

By  this  time  we  had  arrived  at  the  offices  of  the 
P.  Q.  R.  Railroad,  and  as  we  got  out  of  the  carriage 
my  heart  began  to  thump  as  if  I'd  been  skipping 
rope  for  an  hour.  If  Jackie  hadn't  been  there 
I  believe  I  should  have  backed  out;  but  I  knew 
he  would  make  all  sorts  of  fun  of  me  if  I  did,  so 
that  I  simply  had  to  go  through  with  it. 
161 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

No  place  was  ever  busier  than  those  offices. 
There  were  crowds  of  people  coming  in  and  going 
out  constantly;  elevators  hurrying  up  and  down 
like  mad;  messenger  boys  carrying  papers  here, 
there,  and  everywhere;  and  I  was  so  bewildered 
for  a  few  moments  I  didn't  know  what  to  do. 
Finally  I  saw  a  man  in  uniform,  and,  giving  him 
our  cards,  told  him  we  wanted  to  see  the  president. 

He  was  very  polite,  and,  after  handing  our  cards 
to  a  boy  with  lots  of  gold  buttons  on  his  jacket 
who  whisked  away  with  them,  he  led  us  into  an 
alcove  just  off  the  main  hall,  and  asked  us  to  sit 
down. 

It  seemed  to  me  that  we  sat  there  for  an  hour  at 
least,  and  I  had  the  same  sensation  of  dread  that  I 
always  get  at  the  dentist's  when  I  have  to  wait. 
Jackie  spoke  once  or  twice,  but  in  whispers,  and  I 
guessed  he  was  feeling  much  the  same  way. 

At  last  a  young  man  came  in,  looking  very  con- 
ceited and  holding  our  cards  in  his  hand. 

"Mr.  Cresson  has  no  time  to  waste  on  imperti- 
nent children,"  he  began,  as  he  walked  up  to  us. 
'I  advise  you  not  to  attempt  such  a  silly  trick 
again  or  something  worse  will  happen.'" 

Honestly,  I  was  so  surprised  that  I  didn't  even 
know  what  he  meant;  but  Jackie  understood,  and 
I  was  very  proud  of  him. 

He  arose  quickly,  and  stepped  up  to  the  young 
man  as  coolly  as  if  he  were  the  president  himself. 
162 


WE    CALL    ON    A    PRESIDENT 

It  might  have  been  his  father  speaking,  he  was  so 
dignified. 

"I  presume  you  are  one  of  Mr.  Cresson's  secre- 
taries," he  said,  deliberately.  "Now,  suppose  you 
take  back  those  cards  to  Mr.  Cresson.  I  am  quite 
sure  he  has  never  seen  them,  for  a  gentleman  would 
not  have  sent  such  a  message  nor  such  a  messenger 
to  a  lady." 

For  a  moment  the  young  man  seemed  impressed; 
then  he  sneered,  "A  lady  named  'John  Fales'?" 

"That  is  my  cousin's  name,"  Jackie  went  on, 
"and  if  you  want  to  know  why  the  second  card  has 
'  John  Fales'  on  it  a  little  thought  might  tell  you 
that  it  is  my  name  also." 

Again  the  man  wavered. 

"  But  these  cards  belong  to  Mr.  John  Fales,  of 
Fales,  and  he  is  dead.  I  thought  at  first  it  was 
some  crank  trying  to  get  an  interview  with  Mr. 
Cresson  until  the  boy  told  me  it  was  two  children." 

"But  now  you  don't  have  to  think  any  more 
about  it,"  said  Jackie,  suavely.  "All  you  have 
to  do  is  to  let  the  president  know  we  are  here,  and 
he  will  do  the  rest." 

The  man  looked  us  up  and  down  for  a  moment; 
then  he  turned  on  his  heel  and  went  away. 

"Goodness,  Jackie!"  I  whispered,  "how  did 
you  know  what  to  say  to  him  ?" 

"Huh!"  said  Jackie.     "Little  whippersnapper! 
He  wouldn't  last  a  week  in  my  father's  office." 
163 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

Again  we  sat  in  silence  until  at  length  another 
man  came  and  said,  very  politely,  that  Mr.  Cresson 
would  see  us  at  once.  He  took  us  up  in  an  elevator, 
opened  the  door  of  a  room,  and,  as  we  entered, 
closed  it  softly  behind  us.  We  had  reached  the 
president's  office  at  last. 


XXV 

A    BARGAIN 

FOR  a  moment  Jackie  and  I  stood  perfectly 
still;  then  a  nice-looking  old  gentleman  who 
was  sitting  at  a  desk  turned  to  us,  saying: 

"And  now  what  can  I  do  for  you  ?" 

Somehow  I  knew  at  once  that  it  was  the  presi- 
dent, although  he  didn't  put  on  half  the  airs  his 
secretary  had;  and  while  he  looked  rather  grim, 
I  felt  I  could  talk  to  him  and  tell  him  what  I  wanted 
just  as  if  he  were  great-grandfather.  I  was  quite 
myself,  while,  strange  to  say,  Jackie,  who  had 
been  so  brave  with  the  secretary,  was  red  and 
embarrassed,  and  only  murmured  a  word  or  two. 

"  Perhaps  you're  rather  busy,  and  would  like  us 
to  come  some  other  time  ?"  I  said.  His  desk  was 
full  of  papers,  and  a  stenographer  had  whisked  out 
of  the  room  as  we  entered  it.  "  But  1  hope  you  can 
see  us  now,"  I  went  on,  "  because  I'd  love  to  settle 
this  for  mother's  Christmas  present,  you  know.'* 

Mr.  Cresson  chuckled,  and  looked  at  me  over 
his  glasses. 

"No  busier  than  usual,"  he  said,  "and  it  is  not 
165 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

every  day  I  can  have  the  pleasure  of  being  useful 
to  a  young  lady,  for  1  fancy  1  can  be  useful  or  you 
would  not  be  here." 

"Yes,"  said  I,  "you  can  be  very  useful  to  me, 
and  I'd  like  to  tell  you  from  the  very  beginning  so 
you'll  understand,  but  I'll  be  as  quick  about  it  as 
I  can." 

He  nodded  to  me,  and  I  began. 

"1  think  you  must  have  known  great-grand- 
father Fales.  I'm  named  after  him  by  mistake, 
because  I  ought  to  have  been  a  boy;  and  Jackie  is 
named  after  him  in  earnest,  because  he  is  a  boy. 
That  explains  the  cards.  We  had  none  of  our  own 
with  us,  so  we  used  his  because  it  seems  politer  to 
send  cards  when  you  are  calling  on  a  president." 

"I  quite  understand,"  said  Mr.  Cresson. 

"Perhaps  great-grandfather  may  have  told  you," 
I  went  on,  "that  he  and  I  got  to  be  great  friends 
before  he  died.  He  made  a  new  will;  but  it 
wasn't  signed,  and  so  the  old  will  that  left  me  Fales 
but  gave  all  the  money  to  Jackie  had  to  be  carried 
out.  Of  course,  Jackie  says  he'll  give  it  back  to 
me  when  he  is  twenty-one,  but  I  haven't  made  up 
my  mind  whether  to  take  it  or  not,  and  anyhow 
that  won't  help  now.  So  you  see  I  have  Fales  and 
mother  to  take  care  of  and  no  money  to  do  it  with, 
and  I  was  very  much  interested  when  I  found  you 
were  going  to  run  your  railroad  across  my  land. 
Of  course,  you'll  have  to  fix  that  with  Mr.  Sloan 
166 


A    BARGAIN 

(he's  my  lawyer,  you  know),  but  there  is  another 
matter  I  want  to  settle  with  you  myself.  It  is  very 
important;  and  as  this  is  your  railroad,  I  suppose 
they  will  do  just  as  you  tell  them  ?" 

"Yes,  I  suppose  they  will,"  replied  Mr.  Cresson. 

"If  I  only  had  a  map  I  could  explain  it  better, 
but  the  railroad  cuts  right  across  my  land  for  a 
mile  or  more,  leaving  a  wide  strip  on  the  south 
side.  That's  White  Marsh,  you  know.  Now, 
you  see,  I  have  to  make  a  lot  of  money  somehow 
to  keep  Fales  with — " 

"She  wouldn't  sell  Fales  even  for  two  millions 
because  she's  keeping  it  for  her  great-grandchil- 
dren," Jackie  interrupted. 

"Go  on,  I'm  interested,"  said  the  president, 
nodding. 

"So  I've  decided  to  use  White  Marsh  to  make  a 
commuters'  paradise;  that  is,  to  cut  up  into  lots 
and  build  houses  on  it.  (We  have  one  house  now, 
and  we  get  a  lot  of  money  for  renting  it.)  There 
are  fine  trees  down  there,  and  I  am  going  to  have 
the  roads  all  twisting,  so  as  to  make  it  as  pretty  as 
possible;  and  I  shall  only  build  beautiful  houses, 
even  if  they  are  not  very  big.  So  lots  of  people 
will  go  there  to  live;  but  they  will  want  to  be 
near  the  railroad  station,  and  that  is  what  I've 
come  to  see  you  about." 

"Did   some  one   suggest  your  coming  here?" 
asked  Mr.  Cresson,  looking  at  me  keenly. 
12  167 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

"No,  indeed,"  I  answered.  "No  one  knows  a 
thing  about  it.  It's  a  secret,  and  I  want  it  all  ar- 
ranged for  mother's  Christmas  present.  Besides, 
I  always  believe  it  is  better  if  things  can  be  settled 
by  the  people  at  the  head." 

"You're  quite  right,"  Mr.  Cresson  assented. 
"You  at  the  head  of  Fales,  I  at  the  head  of  the 
railroad." 

"  Exactly,"  I  answered.  "  It  seemed  to  me  that 
if  you  and  I  could  talk  the  matter  over  together  it 
would  be  easy  to  explain  it  to  you.  And  it  would 
be  a  fine  surprise  for  mother;  she  doesn't  even 
know  there  is  a  railroad  yet,  and  she's  economiz- 
ing something  awful.  Not  that  it  does  much  good. 
We  always  spend  more  than  we  want  to.  But, 
you  see,  if  we  could  arrange  this,  she  won't  need 
to  bother  any  more,  and  that  would  be  the  best 
Christmas  present  she  could  possibly  have." 

"Well,  in  that  case,"  said  the  president,  "we'll 
have  to  find  out  what  we  can  do  about  it." 

He  took  up  a  telephone  on  his  desk,  and  we 
heard  him  ask  that  a  small  map  of  the  projected 
branch-line  to  White  Marsh  be  sent  to  him  im- 
mediately, and  in  a  minute  the  buttony  boy,  or 
another  just  like  him,  brought  it  in. 

I  stood  up  beside  him  as  he  spread  it  out,  and 
we  looked  over  it  together. 

"Now,"  said  he,  "where  do  you  propose  to  put 
the  station  ?" 

168 


A    BARGAIN 

"Right  here,"  I  answered,  pointing.  "It  will 
make  more  people  have  houses  'just  two  minutes' 
walk  from  the  station.'  That  is  what  they  all 
seem  to  want,  because  it  is  put  in  every  advertise- 
ment I  ever  read." 

"You  are  a  very  wise  young  lady,"  Mr.  Cresson 
remarked,  with  a  smile.  "And  suppose  we  do 
put  the  station  there,  what  do  we  get  for  it  ?" 

"I'm  coming  to  that,"  I  replied,  quickly.  "I'll 
give  you  the  land  to  put  it  on  for  nothing." 

He  shook  his  head.  "So  will  the  man  who 
wants  the  station  here,"  he  said,  pointing. 

" How  much  land  has  he  ?"  I  asked.  "As  much 
as  I  have — I  mean  as  much  that  will  border  the 
railroad  ?" 

"No,  not  half  so  much." 

"Then  it  seems  to  me  that  it  will  pay  you  better 
to  let  me  have  the  station,"  I  insisted.  "There 
will  be  more  people  living  on  my  land  to  use  the 
road  when  the  houses  are  built." 

"A  very  good  argument,"  said  Mr.  Cresson. 
"But  suppose  the  other  man  puts  up  very  little 
houses  close  together — would  you  do  that  ?" 

"No,  I  wouldn't  do  that,"  I  said,  hesitatingly, 
and  for  a  moment  I  didn't  know  what  to  answer. 
Then  an  idea  came  to  me.  "Don't  you  see,  Mr. 
Cresson,  little-house  people  use  the  trolley-cars  be- 
cause they're  cheaper,  and  that  wouldn't  help  you 
a  bit." 

169 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

"I  think  there  is  something  in  what  you  say," 
Mr.  Cresson  agreed.  "At  any  rate,  I'll  think  it 
over  and  let  you  know." 

"That  won't  do  at  all,"  I  said,  desperately.  "I 
want  to  settle  it  now.  Suppose  I  agree  to  give  you 
the  land  and  to  build  you  a  station,  will  you  promise 
to  let  me  have  it  ?" 

"Can  you  promise  this?"  he  asked.  "You're 
only  a  child." 

"Not  about  Fales,"  I  said.  "I  am  master 
there." 

"Yes,"  Jackie  put  in,  "she  can  do  as  she  pleases 
with  Fales — sell  it,  or  keep  it,  or  anything." 

Mr.  Cresson  thought  a  moment;  then  he  said, 
quite  briskly:  "We'll  consider  it  a  bargain.  Your 
cousin  will  be  witness,  and  when  the  matter  of  the 
right  of  way  is  taken  up  with  your  lawyer  this  can 
be  incorporated  in  the  agreement.  You  shall  have 
your  station  in  the  middle  of  White  Marsh — you 
to  give  us  not  less  than  a  quarter  of  an  acre  of  land 
and  to  build  a  substantial  stone  or  concrete  station. 
Do  you  agree  ?" 

"Yes!"  I  exclaimed,  and  we  shook  hands  on  it. 


XXVI 

LUNCHEON    FOR   THREE 

MR.  CRESSON  turned  to  his  desk  and 
started  writing  rapidly  on  a  little  tablet. 
I  was  so  happy  that  I  didn't  know  what  to  do, 
but  it  seemed  to  me  that  we  ought  to  go  now,  and 
I  began  to  say  "Good-bye"  to  Mr.  Cresson. 

"Hold  on  a  minute,"  he  said,  without  looking 
up,  and  Jackie  and  I  waited. 

In  a  moment  he  laid  the  pencil  down  and 
exclaimed,  "There,  that's  all  right!"  and  rose  to 
his  feet. 

"I  don't  know  how  you  two  feel,"  he  began, 
"but  I  want  my  luncheon,  and  it  would  give  me 
much  pleasure  if  you  would  join  me." 

From  the  way  he  spoke  I  knew  he  meant  it, 
and  as  soon  as  the  subject  was  mentioned  I  dis- 
covered how  awfully  hungry  I  was,  so  we  said  we 
would  love  to  lunch  with  him. 

I  hope  I'm  not  a  snob,  but  I  was  glad  that 

horrid  secretary  was  the  one  who   answered  his 

bell,  and  what  message  do  you  suppose  he  left? 

"Take  this  note  to  Mr.  Hastings,  of  the  Legal 

171 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

Department,  and  tell  any  callers  you  don't  know 
when  I  will  return.  I'm  going  to  lunch  with 
Miss  Fales,  and  it  is  not  often  I  have  such  an 
honor." 

Then  we  went  down  in  the  elevator,  and,  as 
luck  would  have  it,  his  automobile  was  not  there, 
so  we  took  our  carriage  and  went  to  the  Bellevue- 
Stratford.  I  told  Thomas  to  go  to  Aunt  Martha's 
to  get  something  to  eat  and  to  come  back  to  the 
hotel  for  us,  and  then  I  hadn't  a  care  in  the  world. 

We  had  the  most  perfect  luncheon — oysters,  of 
course,  and  I  love  them,  and  dear  little  oyster- 
crabs,  all  frizzled  up  like  brown  whitebait,  which 
are  the  only  good  things  I  ever  ate  in  England; 
and  then  we  had  squabs  so  big  that  they  were 
almost  like  chickens,  but  awfully  good  all  the 
same;  and  then  pec  he  Melba,  and  I  do  love  pec  he 
Melba! 

Mr.  Cresson  ordered  hothouse  grapes  for  his 
dessert,  and  when  they  came  he  tasted  them. 

"They  are  entirely  without  flavor,"  he  said,  in 
a  very  disappointed  way.  "I  would  certainly  like 
to  have  some  grapes  that  tasted  like  those  in  my 
father's  grapery  when  I  was  a  boy." 

I  tried  one  of  them,  and  truly  it  was  like  water 
with  a  little  sugar  in  it,  so  I  said : 

"We'll  add  another  clause  to  our  contract, 
Mr.  Cresson,  and  say  that  I  agree  to  send  to  the 
president,  every  Christmas,  a  basket  of  hothouse 
172 


LUNCHEON    FOR    THREE 

grapes  that  will  taste  like  those  he  ate  when  he 
was  a  boy." 

Mr.  Cresson  looked  very  much  interested. 

"What!"  he  exclaimed,  "have  you  a  grapery  ?" 

"Yes,  indeed,"  I  replied. 

"Well,  I'm  glad  you  came  in,"  he  remarked, 
earnestly,  "but  I'd  never  dare  put  that  clause  in 
the  agreement.  All  our  directors  would  say  I  had 
been  bribed.  They  know  I  would  give  a  fortune 
for  good  grapes;  and  I  can't  raise  them  myself — 
I've  tried." 

"Then,"  I  said,  "it  shall  be  a  gentleman's 
agreement,  but  you'll  get  the  grapes." 

"John  Fales,"  Mr.  Cresson  began,  with  a 
chuckle,  "don't  you  know  that  some  people  call 
me  a  pirate  ?  I  warn  you  that  you  are  doing  a  risky 
thing.  If  those  grapes  are  good,  and  I  think  you 
must  know  that  they  are,  I'll  be  tempted  to  come 
out  and  steal  Fales,  gardener,  graperies,  and 
mistress  too." 

I  laughed.  "  But,  you  see,  you  won't  have  to. 
Once  I'm  rich  I'll  have  lots  and  lots  for  my  friends. 
I'll  invite  you  to  Fales  whenever  you  want  to  come 
to  eat  all  you  can.  We  have  no  pirate's  room, 
but  I  can  promise  you  a  president's  suite." 

"Thank  you,"  he  replied,  with  a  little  bow;  "I 
should  like  very  much  to  see  Fales.  It  must  be 
a  wonderful  old  place  from  all  I've  heard  of  it. 
If  your  mother  seconds  that  invitation,  you  can 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

count  on  my  coming.  I  have  no  child  of  my  own. 
Perhaps  if  I'd  had  one  like  you  I  wouldn't  be  such 
a  bugaboo  to  so  many  people." 

He  seemed  to  be  talking  to  himself  rather  than 
to  me,  but  I  was  surprised,  and  somehow  "But 
no  one  could  be  afraid  of  you,  sir!"  popped  out 
without  my  meaning  it  to. 

"Oh,  couldn't  they  ?"  he  said.  "Do  you  mean 
to  say  you  weren't  scared  at  first?" 

"I  was,  perhaps,  before  I  saw  you,"  I  confessed, 
"but  not  afterward.  Somehow  you  reminded  me 
of  Great-grandfather  Fales,  and  I  knew  at  once 
you  would  be  quite — quite  fair,  and  we  should  be 
friends." 

"I  don't  think  any  one  could  pay  me  a  greater 
compliment  than  to  say  I  resembled  your  great- 
grandfather in  any  way,"  Mr.  Cresson  replied, 
seriously.  "Certainly  nothing  could  please  me 
more.  He  was  always  the  pattern  of  an  upright 
gentleman,  and  that  alone  would  have  made  me 
do  anything  I  could  for  you.  However,  the  busi- 
ness you  came  on  was  not  private  business,  but 
concerned  the  interests  of  the  railroad,  and  I 
was  bound  to  drive  a  fair  bargain  for  them;  but 
I  was  extremely  glad  I  could  serve  you  at  the 
same  time.  I  believe  that,  properly  managed,  that 
land  improvement  you  have  in  mind  will  make  you 
rich,  and  if  at  any  time  you  need  advice  or  help 
you  must  come  to  me — not  the  President  of  the 
174 


LUNCHEON    FOR    THREE 

P.  Q.  R.,  you  understand,  but  to  Thomas  J. 
Cresson.  I've  had  some  experience  in  land-im- 
provement companies,  and  I  intend  to  see  that 
the  money  from  this  one  goes  to  the  young  lady 
who  owns  the  land." 

"Won't  I  be  an  awful  bother?"  I  gasped. 

"No,  my  dear,"  he  answered;  "it  will  be  only 
a  pleasure  if  I  can  help  your  great-grandfather's 
heir." 

So  it  was  settled  that  the  President  of  the  P.  Q. 
R.  was  to  be  an  advisory  committee  of  one,  and 
whenever  I  wished  to  consult  him  I  was  to  tele- 
phone to  him  before  school,  and  he  would  ar- 
range to  take  me  out  to  luncheon  and  talk  things 
over. 

Then  the  carriage  came,  and  we  said  "Good- 
bye." 

He  was  on  the  lower  step,  and  that  brought  his 
eyes  on  a  level  with  mine,  and,  because  he  had 
made  me  so  happy,  I  leaned  over  and  kissed 
him. 

"You've  been  awfully  good  to  me,"  I  said.  "I 
wish  I  had  been  your  grandchild." 

For  a  minute  he  looked  hard  at  me  with  a  queer 
expression  on  his  face,  and  then  he  said,  quite 
gently: 

"You  must  have  been  the  pride  of  your  great- 
grandfather's life;  and  you  will  add  a  real  pleasure 
to  the  life  of  another  lonely  old  man  if  you  do  not 
175 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

forget  him  altogether,  but  come  to  see  him  some- 
times," 

Then  we  parted.  His  automobile  was  waiting, 
and  it  was  time  for  us  to  go  back  to  Fales. 

When  the  carriage  started,  Jackie  began  to  talk. 
He  had  hardly  spoken  a  word  for  hours. 

"You  are  a  mystery  to  me,  John  Fales.  I  never 
saw  such  a  girl.  Do  you  mean  to  say,  honestly, 
you  weren't  afraid  of  him  ?  Every  minute  I  was 
expecting  him  to  turn  and  take  your  head  off. 
And  the  idea  of  telling  him  you  had  no  pirate's 
room!  But  he  didn't  seem  to  mind.  Gracious! 
I  began  to  be  afraid  he'd  end  by  stealing  you,  and 
I'd  have  to  go  back  alone  and  break  it  to  Cousin 
Marion  that  he  had  taken  such  a  fancy  to  you  that 
he  decided  to  keep  you  to  start  a  collection  of 
adopted  grandchildren." 

Jackie  and  I  were  talking  very  excitedly  when 
suddenly  I  heard  some  one  hailing: 

"Hey,  John  Fales!" 

Sticking  my  head  out  of  the  carriage  window,  I 
found  Mr.  Cresson  running  along  beside  us  in  his 
automobile. 

"Where  are  you  going  to  get  the  money  to  build 
that  station  ?"  he  asked. 

"Why,  sir,"  I  answered,  "doesn't  the  P.  Q.  R. 
have  to  pay  me  for  the  right  to  cross  my  land  be- 
fore they  will  need  a  station  ?  Of  course,  I'll  get 
it  from  them." 

176 


LUNCHEON    FOR    THREE 

The  president  of  one  of  the  greatest  railroads 
in  the  country  roared  with  laughter. 

"If  you  were  a  boy,  John  Fales,  I'd  have  to 
look  to  my  laurels!"  And  with  another  "Good- 
bye" the  big,  bottle-green  automobile  forged 
ahead. 


XXVII 

I    REJOICE    TOO    SOON 

JACKIE  and  I  talked  like  two  magpies  as  we 
*J  were  driving  back  to  Fales.  We  were  so 
excited  over  the  success  of  our  visit  to  Mr.  Cresson 
that  it  was  hard  to  sit  still  in  the  carriage. 

After  much  discussion  about  how  we  were  to 
tell  mother,  we  decided  finally  to  have  a  surprise- 
party  on  the  evening  of  Christmas  Day.  We  didn't 
mean  to  have  many  people — just  the  great-aunts; 
Jackie's  father  and  mother  (so  that  he  could  be 
there);  Mr.  Cresson,  of  course;  Mr.  Seymore;  and 
a  few  of  mother's  most  intimate  friends,  who  would 
be  glad  to  know  that  our  money  troubles  were  at 
an  end. 

I  can't  possibly  tell  you  how  happy  I  was,  and 
it  really  took  some  time  before  I  realized  fully  what 
it  meant.  No  more  worry  about  taxes!  Think 
of  that.  Larkin  could  have  the  conservatories 
painted;  Thomas  would  have  a  new  floor  in  the 
carriage-house;  the  wings  of  the  old  mansion  could 
be  opened  again,  to  William's  great  delight  and 
the  glory  of  Fales.  But,  best  of  all,  mother's 
178 


I    REJOICE    TOO    SOON 

anxieties    about    ways    and  means    were    at    an 
end. 

It  was  almost  more  than  I  could  do  not  to  tell 
her  when  I  saw  her,  but  I  hugged  and  kissed  her 
so  hard  that  she  must  have  known  I  was  bursting 
with  excitement.  I  couldn't  walk;  I  skipped  about 
from  room  to  room,  laughing  at  nothing  in  par- 
ticular, and  singing  every  minute.  I  don't  believe 
there  was  a  happier  girl  in  all  the  world  that  night. 

Of  course  mother  thought  all  this  gayety  was 
just  Christmas  spirits;  but  she  was  a  little  perplexed 
when  I  spoke  to  her  about  the  party  we  had 
planned,  for  I  had  to  tell  her  that. 

"Dearie/*  she  said,  "I  must  save  every  cent  for 
the  taxes."  And  her  face  was  so  serious  that  it 
was  all  I  could  do  not  to  cry:  "Oh  bother  the  taxes, 
mother!  It's  all  right!  We've  got  a  gold-mine!" 

But  I  helcl  my  tongue  about  that,  and  replied: 
"You  know  that  each  of  the  great-aunts  will  give 
me  twenty-five  dollars  for  Christmas,  and  that 
makes  a  hundred  all  together,  doesn't  it  ?  Now, 
fifty  of  that  I  want  you  to  use  to  buy  presents  for 
the  servants,  and  the  other  fifty  we  can  have  for  the 
party." 

Mother  finally  agreed  to  this,  and  then  I  told 
her  who  we  wanted  to  invite — except  Mr.  Cresson 
and  Mr.  Seymore. 

"That's  rather  a  strange  party  for  a  little  girl," 
said  mother.     "Won't  there  be  any  children  ?" 
'79 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

"Jackie  and  me — I  mean — I." 

"  Don't  you  want  any  others  ? "  she  asked. 

"No,  mother,  this  isn't  a  children's  party. 
Please  let  me  have  just  the  people  I  want;  it  will 
be  a  nice  party,  truly  it  will." 

Mother  told  me  afterward  that  she  suspected 
something,  though  what  it  was  she  couldn't  guess; 
but  she's  a  dear  little  mother,  and  trusted  me  not 
to  do  anything  foolish. 

We  wrote  the  invitations  to  a  few  of  the  people 
that  night,  and  mother  was  going  in  town  shopping 
next  day,  and  promised  to  see  the  others  herself. 
I  resolved  to  send  word  to  Mr.  Cresson  and  Mr. 
Seymore  while  she  was  away. 

So  everything  was  arranged  just  as  I  wanted  it, 
and  while  I  was  going  to  sleep  I  tried  to  imagine 
how  mother  would  act  when  she  knew. 

I  was  left  all  alone  next  morning,  for  Jackie  had 
to  go  home  again  for  Christmas  Eve,  so  mother 
took  him  with  her.  I  had  planned  an  excursion 
about  the  estate  to  look  for  things  that  needed 
repairs,  just  to  have  the  fun  of  knowing  it  wouldn't 
be  long  now  before  we  could  have  money  to  fix 
everything;  but  just  as  I  was  starting  William 
came  in  with  the  mail,  and  handed  me  a  letter 
addressed  to  "Miss  John  Fales,  Fales,  German- 
town." 

As  I  opened  it  I  saw  printed  on  the  envelope, 
"General  Offices,  P.  Q.  R.  Railroad,  Philadel- 
180 


I    REJOICE    TOO    SOON 

phia,"  and  I  knew  it  was  from  Mr.  Cresson.     It 
read: 

"My  DEAR  JOHN  FALES, — I  find  myself  confronted 
with  a  very  unpleasant  task,  and  I  want  you  to  know 
in  the  beginning  that  your  friend  Thomas  J.  Cresson 
has  not  been  persuaded  by  the  President  of  the  P.  Q.  R. 
to  be  indifferent  to  your  interests,  but  has  looked  into 
the  matter  thoroughly  before  writing  you. 

"My  dear,  there  has  been  a  mistake.  Just  before  we 
left  the  offices  yesterday  to  go  to  luncheon  I  sent  a  note 
to  our  Legal  Department  asking  for  a  report  upon  what 
had  been  done  in  regard  to  your  property  and  its  relations 
with  the  railroad,  in  order  that  I  might  incorporate  our 
agreement  about  the  station  and,  further,  to  at  once  take 
up  the  matter  of  payment  for  the  right  of  way.  I  had 
hoped  to  settle  it  satisfactorily  so  that  the  road  could  give 
a  check  for  a  partial  payment  at  least,  and  you  would  have 
something  more  than  promises  to  surprise  your  mother 
with. 

"When  I  returned  the  report  was  ready  for  me,  and  I 
can't  tell  you  how  grieved  I  was  to  read  it. 

"These  are  the  facts.  Your  great-grandfather  sold 
that  piece  of  property  through  which  the  road  is  to  run 
some  time  before  his  death,  and  it  is  now  owned  by  the 
'White  Marsh  Improvement  Company,'  with  whom  we 
are  at  present  negotiating  for  the  right  of  way.  There 
is  no  doubt  about  this.  All  the  records  have  been 
examined  by  our  Legal  Department,  and  the  further 
fact  that  old  Mr.  Fales  received  a  very  large  sum  of  money 
for  it  seems  to  show  that  he  knew  exactly  what  he  was 
181 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

doing  and  preferred  to  sell  rather  than  be  bothered,  or 
have  his  heirs  bother,  with  the  subdivision  of  the  land. 

"This  was  the  report,  and  the  president  was  quite 
satisfied  with  its  correctness;  but  your  friend  Thomas 
J.  Cresson  went  further  and  sent  for  Mr.  Sloan,  your 
lawyer.  Unhappily  he  but  too  well  confirmed  these 
facts. 

"  I  could  write  you  more  of  the  details,  but  you  wouldn't 
understand  them,  so  that  all  I  can  say  is  that  we  must 
find  another  way  out  of  your  difficulties;  and  believe  me, 
John  Fales,  I  am  heartily  sorry.  I  wish  I  could  hold 
out  some  hope,  but  that  would  be  neither  wise  nor  kind. 

"Remember  the  offices  of  the  president  are  always 
open  to  you  as  is  the  heart  of  your  friend, 

"THOMAS  J.  CRESSOM." 


XXV1I1 

IN    THE    SECRET    ROOM 

I  READ  Mr.  Cresson's  letter  twice  before  I 
could  believe  the  news  it  contained.  It  didn't 
seem  possible  that,  all  in  a  minute,  everything 
I  had  planned  was  to  come  to  nothing;  that 
we  were  just  as  poor  as  ever;  that  the  taxes  were 
still  staring  us  in  the  face;  that  all  my  joy  was 
gone;  and  that  my  dream  of  keeping  Fales  was 
at  an  end.  I  picked  up  the  letter  to  read  it  again, 
but  I  could  not  see  the  words  for  the  tears  in  my 
eyes.  My  heart  ached,  my  throat  was  full  and 
choky,  and  I  longed  to  get  away  by  myself  where 
no  one  could  see  me  cry. 

Hastily  I  ran  upstairs  to  great-grandfather's 
study,  turned  the  rose  that  opened  the  panel  in 
the  wall,  and  in  a  minute  was  alone  in  the  secret 
room,  bowed  over  the  table  with  my  head  buried 
in  my  arms,  sobbing  as  if  my  heart  would  break. 

I  couldn't  think  at  all  at  first,  the  disappoint- 
ment seemed  to  make  me  insensible  to  everything 
else;  but  presently  I  began  to  contro'  myself  a 
little,  and  then  I  took  some  comfort  in  the  knowl- 
13  183 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

edge  that  at  least  mother  wouldn't  have  her 
heart  broken  too.  And  that  made  me  remember 
how  I  had  planned  to  surprise  her,  which  started 
me  crying  again. 

After  a  while  I  got  up  and  walked  about  the 
room,  trying  to  keep  down  the  dry  sobs  and  not  be 
a  baby  any  more.  Really  we  weren't  any  worse 
off  than  we  had  been  before,  only — and  then  I 
thought  of  the  people  invited  to  my  party.  What 
could  I  do  ?  They  would  all  come,  and  mother 
would  expect  something  from  this  secrecy  of  mine, 
and  nothing  would  happen  except  a  tale  of  bitter 
disappointment.  Mother  must  be  told  as  soon 
as  she  came  home.  I  wished  she  had  been  there 
then,  for  I  felt  very  lonely. 

I  went  over  and  polished  the  window,  just  to 
keep  my  mind  on  something  else  for  a  while,  and 
finally  succeeded  in  calming  myself  sufficiently  to 
read  Mr.  Cresson's  letter  again. 

I  studied  it  very  carefully,  and  I  was  sure  that 
even  the  president  was  sorry,  nor  had  I  a  doubt 
that  my  friend  Thomas  J.  Cresson  had  looked 
after  my  interests  as  he  said;  but  I  couldn't  help 
feeling  that  every  one  was  mistaken  if  they  believed 
that  great-grandfather  had  sold  any  part  of  Fales. 
The  more  I  thought  of  this  the  more  impossible 
it  seemed.  Why,  even  the  Fales  motto,  "  lo 
conservo  li  mien,"  was  against  that,  and,  besides, 
great-grandfather  loved  every  inch  of  the  old 
184 


'HERE  i  AM,  MISS  JOHN.    WHAT'S  THE  MATTER?" 


IN    THE    SECRET    ROOM 

place.  I  could  remember  having  heard  him  say, 
proudly:  "The  Fales  buy  land,  but  they  never 
sell!"  There  must  be  something  wrong.  Great- 
grandfather didn't  need  any  money,  and  if  he 
hadn't  wanted  to  bother  dividing  up  White  Marsh 
there  wasn't  any  reason  why  he  should.  The 
more  I  thought  of  this  the  more  firmly  convinced 
I  became  that  no  part  of  Fales  had  been  sold,  and 
that  Mr.  Cresson  and  Mr.  Sloan  and  the  Legal 
Department  of  the  P.  Q.  R.  must  have  blundered 
in  some  way. 

I  had  seated  myself  at  the  table  again,  and 
looked  carelessly  at  a  small  package  of  folded 
papers,  held  together  by  a  rubber  band,  lying  on 
one  corner  of  it.  They  had  been  there  ever  since 
we  came,  and  many  times  I  had  picked  them  up 
to  dust  when  cleaning  the  room,  but  I  had  never 
thought  anything  about  them.  As  I  sat  there  my 
eye  caught  sight  of  the  words,  "PLANS  FOR  THE 
FALES  IMPROVEMENT  AT  WHITE  MARSH,"  written 
on  the  back  of  one  of  the  papers.  Perhaps  I  had 
read  it  before  without  its  making  any  impression 
on  my  mind.  Now  it  seemed  to  mean  everything 
in  the  world  to  me! 

I  picked  up  the  bundle,  took  off  the  band,  and 
looked  through  the  papers,  reading  the  titles  as 
I  came  to  them: 

"Estimate  for  drainage."  "Map  of  White 
Marsh."  "  Probable  line  of  R.  R."  "  Road  plan 
185 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

and  house  distribution."     "Outlay,  expenditure, 
and  estimated  returns." 

In  a  fever  of  excitement  I  opened  the  maps,  and 
there,  as  clear  as  could  be,  was  the  commuters' 
paradise  I  had  dreamed  of.  On  the  margins  were 
notes  in  great-grandfather's  own  familiar  hand- 
writing, and  it  seemed  very  plain  to  me  that  he 
had  meant  to  do  all  this  work  himself,  and  that 
here  was  proof  enough  that  he  hadn't  sold  White 
Marsh.  It  was  so  evident  that  I  was  almost  ready 
to  sing  again,  and  then  it  occurred  to  me  to  search 
the  old  desk,  but  there  was  nothing  there. 

I  knew  that  something  should  be  done  at  once. 
Mr.  Cresson  had  said  that  the  P.  Q.  R.  was  nego- 
tiating with  this  White  Marsh  Company  for  the 
right  of  way.  It  seemed  vitally  important,  then, 
that  I  see  him  immediately.  But  how  to  get 
there  ?  Thomas  and  the  carriage  were  in  town 
with  mother. 

I  hurried  out  of  the  secret  room,  taking  the 
papers  with  me,  and,  closing  the  panel  in  the  wall, 
went  running  down-stairs,  calling  "William!"  at 
the  top  of  my  voice. 

He  must  have  thought  something  serious  had 
happened,  for  he  came  very  quickly. 

"Here  I  am,  Miss  John.  What's  the  matter?" 
he  answered,  plainly  anxious. 

"William!"  I  exclaimed,  breathlessly,  "I  must 
get  to  town  at  once!" 

186 


IN    THE    SECRET    ROOM 

"Oh,  is  that  all?"  he  said,  with  evident  relief. 

"But  it  is  most  important,  William!"  I  insisted. 

"Won't  to-morrow  do?"  he  asked. 

"William,"  I  cried,  "I  must  go  now!  It  is  to 
save  Fales!" 

"In  that  case,  Miss  John,"  said  William,  start- 
ing for  the  stables,  "you  can  count  on  me.  I'll 
have  the  mare  harnessed  to  the  buckboard,  and 
drive  you  to  town  myself.  I'll  be  at  the  door  in 
ten  minutes !"  And  William  was  off  on  a  run. 


XXIX 

MR.  SLOAN'S  QUEER  CLIENT 

WILLIAM  was  as  good  as  his  word,  and  by  the 
time  I  was  ready  he  was  at  the  door.  At  first 
I  hardly  knew  him,  for  he  was  wearing  a  long  dark 
coat  of  Fales  livery  and  a  high  coachman's  hat; 
but  I  couldn't  bother  with  that  then,  and  jumped 
up  beside  him.  I  hadn't  forgotten  to  take  visit- 
ing-cards, and  with  the  maps  and  papers  from  the 
secret  room  I  felt  prepared  to  prove  that  great- 
grandfather hadn't  sold  any  part  of  Fales,  and  was 
very  hopeful  that  everything  would  be  all  right 
in  the  end.  Only  we  must  make  haste,  and  al- 
though Dido,  the  mare,  went  as  fast  as  she  could, 
I  kept  urging  William  to  hurry  constantly. 

William  really  is  a  treasure.  He  didn't  ask  me 
any  questions,  seeming  to  know  that  the  matter 
was  serious  without  any  explanations,  and  he  did 
his  best  that  long  day  to  help  me  in  every  way  he 
could.  It  was  a  comfort  to  have  him  with  me,  for 
I  knew  that  mother  trusted  him  implicitly;  so 
that  I  felt  very  safe. 

I  suppose  we  appeared  rather  unusual,  driving 
1 88 


MR.SLOAN'S    QUEER    CLIENT 

rapidly  through  the  streets  of  Philadelphia  in  a 
buckboard,  and  I  have  a  dim  recollection  of  people 
turning  to  look  at  us  as  we  clattered  along;  but 
I  never  thought  of  them,  and  I  know  William 
didn't,  for  he  kept  Dido  going  just  the  same.  We 
twisted  in  and  out  among  the  carts  and  drays, 
bounced  over  the  car-tracks,  passed  hansoms  and 
cabs  as  if  they  were  standing  still,  and  tore  along 
like  mad.  Now  and  then  some  one  would  shout 
"Go  it!"  And  a  policeman  was  about  to  stop  us, 
but  William  never  looked  at  him,  and  we  were  a 
square  away  before  he  could  speak.  Just  before 
we  came  to  a  very  jerky  place,  William  would  say, 
"Hold  hard,  Miss  John,"  and  I'd  answer,  "Yes, 
William.  Hurry!"  and  so  we  went  rushing  until 
at  last  we  reached  the  offices  of  the  P.  Q.  R. 
Railroad. 

I  ran  into  the  building,  and,  finding  the  man  I 
had  spoken  to  the  day  before,  gave  him  my  card. 

"I  want  to  see  the  president  right  away!"  I  ex- 
claimed. 

The  man  must  have  noticed  my  anxiety,  for  he 
was  very  polite,  and  seemed  really  to  regret  that 
he  couldn't  do  as  I  asked. 

"Sorry,  miss,"  he  replied,  "you  can't  see  him." 

"You  don't  understand,"  I  insisted.  "It  is 
very  necessary,  you  know!" 

The  man  leaned  down  and  whispered  to  me 
most  mysteriously: 

189 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

"He's  at  a  directors'  meetin',  miss!" 

"Yes,  but  this  is  important!"  I  protested, 
earnestly. 

"There  ain't  nothin'  so  important  as  a  directors' 
meetin',"  the  man  returned,  in  the  same  awed 
tone— "nothin'  in  the  world!"  Remembering 
Jackie's  haughty  air  when  he  had  talked  to  the 
secretary,  I  assumed  a  most  impressive  manner. 

"All  you  have  to  do  is  to  give  Mr.  Cresson  my 
card,  and  he  will  do  the  rest!"  I  said. 

"Miss,"  he  began,  solemnly,  "if  the  King  of 
England  was  to  come  along  and  say  to  me,  '  Billy, 
I  wants  to  see  Mr.  Cresson,'  he  couldn't  do  it. 
No,  nor  even  the  President  of  the  United  States, 
for  that  matter.  It  ain't  possible  durin'  a  directors' 
meetin',  not  for  nobody." 

"Then  I  can't  see  him  ?"  I  cried,  mournfully. 

"Not  till  it's  over,  miss." 

"When  will  that  be?"  I  asked,  hopefully,  for 
the  man  at  first  had  given  me  the  impression  that 
a  directors'  meeting  might  last  forever. 

"That  I  can't  say,"  he  replied.  "Maybe  an 
hour,  maybe  two.  Shouldn't  think  it  would  be 
more  than  two  hours  this  time  o'  year.  Next 
month  I  couldn't  be  so  sure.  What  with  reports 
to  approve  and  one  thing  or  another,  we're  pretty 
busy  the  first  of  the  year;  but,  now,  you  might  come 
back  again  in  an  hour  or  so." 

"That's  true,"  I  agreed;  and  it  seemed  to  me 
190 


MR.SLOAN'S    QUEER    CLIENT 

that  I  could  see  Mr.  Sloan  in  the  mean  time. 
"Can  you  leave  my  card  so  he'll  see  it  right  away 
when  the  meeting  is  over  ?" 

"Oh  yes,  miss,  I'll  attend  to  that  all  right,"  he 
answered. 

Borrowing  a  pencil,  I  wrote  on  a  card: 

"  DEAR  MR.  CRESSON  [not  President], — Will  be  back 
soon.  Must  see  you  on  important  business.  You  know 

what>  "JOHN  FALES." 

Giving  it  to  the  man,  I  hurried  out  to  William. 

Mr.  Sloan's  office  was  in  an  old  building  down- 
town, on  Walnut  Street.  I  had  been  there  once 
with  mother,  but  although  I  could  not  tell  William 
exactly  where  it  was,  I  felt  certain  I  should  know 
it  when  we  got  there — and  I  did. 

There  were  just  two  rooms — one  outside  where 
people  waited,  with  a  door  opening  into  the  private 
office.  A  boy  told  me  Mr.  Sloan  was  busy,  but 
would  be  through  in  a  minute,  and  suggested 
that  I  wait,  so  I  sat  down  on  a  chair  near  the 
door. 

My  reason  for  coming  to  Mr.  Sloan  was  to  con- 
vince him,  as  I  meant  to  convince  Mr.  Cresson, 
that  they  had  all  been  mistaken  in  thinking  great- 
grandfather had  sold  any  part  of  Fales.  I  hoped 
also  that  I  would  be  saving  time  by  letting  him 
know  promptly,  so  that  he  could  see  the  railroad 
191 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

people  that  day  before  they  settled  with  the  White 
Marsh  Company  about  the  right  of  way. 

While  I  sat  there  thinking  just  how  I  should 
tell  him  all  this,  I  became  aware  of  the  sound  of 
two  men's  voices  in  the  next  room.  I  didn't  listen 
exactly,  but  they  began  to  be  really  very  angry, 
so  that  I  was  a  little  frightened  and  couldn't  think 
of  anything  else.  However,  I  only  heard  a  word 
now  and  then,  and  made  no  sense  out  of  it  what- 
ever. 

Mr.  Sloan's  voice  I  recognized,  and  he  repeated- 
ly demanded  something  that  the  other  wouldn't 
give  him.  Once  or  twice  the  strange  voice  cried: 
"But  she  saved  my  boy!"  A  little  later  I  heard 
the  words:  "Not  for  the  whole  of  Fales!"  To 
which  Mr.  Sloan  seemed  to  reply:  "I  must  have 
them  to-day,  or  else — " 

This  went  on  for  some  time,  the  sounds  from 
the  inner  room  becoming  louder  and  angrier  every 
minute  until  the  boy  and  I  looked  at  each  other 
nervously,  not  knowing  what  to  do.  I  was  just 
making  up  my  mind  to  go  away  when  the  inner 
door  burst  open,  and  a  small  man,  pale  and  very 
much  agitated,  appeared. 

"Then  you'd  rather  go  to  jail!"  shouted  Mr. 
Sloan  behind  him. 

"Yes,  than  take  twice  ten  thousand  at  that 
price !"  the  other  answered,  as  he  stepped  into  the 
waiting-room. 

192 


MR.  SLOAN'S    QUEER    CLIENT 

"Tom,  you  fool,  hold  on!"  cried  Mr.  Sloan, 
following  him;  and  then,  catching  sight  of  me, 
he  stopped,  growing  very  white.  "Miss  Fales!" 
he  exclaimed. 

I  had  risen  to  my  feet,  really  quite  afraid  and 
bewildered.  The  little  man  looked  at  me  earnestly 
for  a  moment,  made  a  step  toward  me  as  if  he 
was  about  to  speak,  then,  glancing  at  Mr.  Sloan, 
he  evidently  changed  his  mind,  for  he  turned 
abruptly,  and,  without  another  word,  went  out. 


XXX 

I    GIVE    UP    HOPE 

A^  soon  as  the  door  had  closed  Mr.  Sloan  be- 
gan to  laugh,  but  it  didn't  seem  to  me  to  be 
quite  real. 

"Come  in,  come  in,  Miss  Fales,"  he  began,  talk- 
ing very  fast.  "Why,  you  look  scared!  Nothing 
to  be  frightened  about!  Dear  me,  nothing  at  all! 
We  lawyers,  you  know,  have  a  lot  of  queer  cus- 
tomers. Have  them  every  day,  and  very  annoy- 
ing they  are  sometimes,  I  can  tell  you.  Now  that 
fellow  who  just  went  out.  He's  an  example.  I 
tried  to  bully  him  into  being  honest.  Scolded  him 
hard.  Maybe  you  heard  some  of  it  ?"  He  paused 
and  I  nodded  assent. 

"You  didn't  catch  what  we  were  talking  about 
now,  did  you?"  he  asked,  a  little  anxiously. 

"No,"  I  replied. 

"Well,  I  don't  mind  telling  you,"  he  went  on, 
as  she  sat  down  before  his  desk.  "The  fellow 
isn't  quite  right  here,"  and  he  tapped  his  forehead. 
"  He's  threatening  all  sorts  of  things  to  a  client  of 
mine,  so  I  just  had  to — " 
194 


I    GIVE    UP    HOPE 

I  don't  know  how  much  more  Mr.  Sloan  said. 
He  kept  on  like  this  for  some  time,  laughing  and 
trying  to  make  light  of  the  scene  I  had  witnessed; 
but,  because  I  was  frightened,  I  guess,  my  confi- 
dence in  him  was  gone.  I  wanted  to  get  away 
as  quickly  as  I  could.  The  mention  of  Fales  in 
this  angry  talk  puzzled  me.  I  couldn't  under- 
stand what  Mr.  Sloan  could  have  to  say  to  a  crazy 
person  about  Fales;  so  I  determined  to  wait  until 
I  had  consulted  Mr.  Cresson  before  mentioning 
the  maps  and  papers  that  I  had  found. 

At  length  Mr.  Sloan  said:  "Well,  shall  we  get 
down  to  business  ?  I  suppose  that's  why  you 
came."  He  was  quite  himself  again  by  this  time, 
and  really,  you  know,  I  had  always  thought  him 
a  very  nice  man  for  a  lawyer. 

"I  came  to  see  you  about  the  White  Marsh  at 
Fales,"  I  said.  "There  has  been  some  mistake." 

"Mistake?"  he  repeated. 

"Yes,  about  great-grandfather  selling  it,"  I 
replied. 

"What  makes  you  think  that?"  he  questioned, 
looking  at  me  intently. 

"Well,  it  doesn't  seem  natural,"  I  began,  "and 
when  Mr.  Cresson — " 

"  When  did  you  see  him? "  Mr.  Sloan  interrupted, 
sharply. 

"Yesterday.  Didn't  he  tell  you  I  had  been 
there?" 

195 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

"Why  no — or,  that  is,  yes,  perhaps  he  did 
mention  it,  but  I'd  forgotten."  Mr.  Sloan  seemed 
to  be  very  confused  for  the  moment,  and  I  wished 
again  that  I  hadn't  come. 

"Well,  go  on,"  he  said,  after  a  short  silence. 

"There  isn't  anything  more,"  I  answered,  "ex- 
cept, you  see,  I  didn't  know  it  was  sold.  Of 
course,  as  I  said  before,  it  didn't  seem  natural 
for  great-grandfather,  and  I  thought  there  might 
have  been  a  mistake." 

"Not  at  all,"  Mr.  Sloan  replied,  positively.  "I 
have  all  Mr.  Fales's  deeds  and  records — all  of 
his  legal  papers,  books,  and  documents  of  every 
description.  They  were  turned  over  to  me;  and 
if  the  transaction  had  not  been  perfectly  correct 
I  should  have  known  it  at  once.  No,  everything 
was  right,  and  your  great-grandfather  made  a 
very  good  bargain,  selling  the  land  with  a  perfect 
knowledge  of  its  future  possibilities;  but,  as  was 
natural  with  a  gentleman  of  his  years,  he  preferred 
to  let  some  one  else  have  the  care  of  developing  it. 
Mr.  Cresson  took  the  matter  up  personally  in 
behalf  of  the  P.  Q.  R.  yesterday  afternoon,  and 
looked  over  our  records  of  the  transfers  to  see 
that  everything  was  as  it  should  be.  He  was 
entirely  satisfied." 

Mr.  Sloan  talked  so  convincingly,  and,  in  spite 
of  his  previous  agitation,  seemed  so  sure,  that 
my  heart  sank  again.  However,  I  hadn't  told  him 
196 


1    GIVE    UP    HOPE 

all  the  things  I  knew,  and  I  wasn't  ready  to  give 
in  till  I  had  to. 

"What  happened  to  the  money  that  was  paid 
for  White  Marsh?"  I  asked. 

"That  was  a  part  of  the  residuary,  and  went  to 
your  cousin,  Jackie  Fales,"  replied  Mr.  Sloan. 
"You  see,  this  transaction  was  complete  before 
I  was  in  charge  of  the  Fales  legal  business,  but 
I  made  certain  that  everything  was  quite  regular. 
I  can  assure  you  of  that,  Miss  Fales.  It  is  beyond 
question,"  he  went  on,  "that,  considering  your 
great-grandfather's  intentions,  as  shown  by  the 
second  will  that  was  never  signed,  you  have  been 
very  unfortunate.  I  have  no  doubt  that  in  this 
particular  proceeding  one  of  his  chief  reasons 
for  disposing  of  the  White  Marsh  was  the  fact  that 
he  expected  you  to  be  his  heir;  in  which  case,  you 
see,  he  would  naturally  feel  that  the  development 
of  such  a  large  property  was  not  work  for  a  girl.  I 
am  sure  that  it  was  really  his  affection  for  you  that 
made  him  accept  the  offer  of  the  White  Marsh 
Company  —  a  desire  to  save  you  such  a  burden 
of  responsibility.  It  is  very,  very,  unfortunate. 
I  wish,  for  your  sake,  Miss  Fales,  that  there  was 
a  chance  of  our  being  mistaken.  I  am  sorry  to 
say  there  is  none." 

This  argument  of  Mr.  Sloan's  seemed  for  a 
moment  to  take  away  my  last  ray  of  hope.  Cer- 
tainly it  was  natural  that  great-grandfather 
197 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

should  have  reasoned  the  way  he  pointed 
out. 

I  rose  to  my  feet,  feeling  very  unhappy,  and  said 
"Good-bye"  rather  mournfully.  He  walked  with 
me  to  the  door  of  the  waiting-room,  and  I  went 
back  to  William  with  a  very  long  face. 

"What  is  it,  Miss  John?"  he  asked,  anxiously, 
as  I  climbed  up  beside  him.  "But  you  needn't 
be  tellin'  me,"  he  went  on.  "  It's  money,  I  know, 
and  there's  all  that  legacy  your  great-grandfather 
left  me  doin'  nothin'.  Do  you  think,  Miss  John, 
it  could  buy  me  more  pleasure  in  any  other  way 
than  by  seein'  it  go  to  keepin'  up  the  old  place  ? 
You  know  it  couldn't.  And  why  can't  Miss 
Marion  see  it?  Anyways,  Miss  John,  the  whole 
thing  was  wrong.  What  mattered  the  signin'  of 
his  name,  when  we  knew  he  meant  you  to  have  it 
all.  Hasn't  he  talked  to  me  a  hundred  times  about 
you,  miss — me  that  was  own  man  to  him — and 
him  the  finest,  benevolentest  gentleman — " 

"Oh,  don't,  William!"  I  burst  out.  "Don't, 
or  I'll  be  crying  in  a  minute!" 

"I  ask  your  pardon,  Miss  John!  I'm  an  old 
fool.  Where  shall  I  drive  you  to  now  ?" 

"  Back  to  the  P.  Q.  R.  offices,"  I  told  him;  " and, 
William,"  I  added,  hope  rising  at  the  thought  of 
Mr.  Cresson,  "maybe  it  will  be  all  right  yet." 

Although  Mr.  Sloan  had  been  very  convincing, 
there  was  one  thought  I  still  clung  to.  I  was 


I    GIVE    UP    HOPE 

absolutely  certain  that  nothing  would  induce 
great-grandfather  to  sell  a  part  of  Fales.  No, 
not  even  out  of  consideration  for  me.  Knowing, 
as  I  did,  how  much  he  loved  it,  how  proud  he 
was  that  the  family  had  kept  it  for  generation 
after  generation,  how  anxious  he  always  was  to 
impress  upon  me  the  fact  that  the  owner  of  the 
estate  only  held  it  in  trust  for  the  Fales  of  the 
future — these  things  convinced  me  that,  in  spite 
of  seemingly  positive  proof,  the  White  Marsh  had 
not  been  sold.  Then,  too,  there  were  the  maps  still 
clutched  in  my  hands.  I  felt  my  courage  rising 
again,  and  by  the  time  we  reached  the  railroad 
building  I  was  ready  to  battle  to  "keep  my 
own." 

Evidently  I  was  expected,  for  the  man  I  had 
talked  to  before  hurried  forward  the  minute  I 
stepped  through  the  door. 

"This  way,  miss,"  he  said.  "Mr.  Cresson  got 
your  card  all  right,  and  sent  down  word  you  was 
to  be  shown  up  immediate.  This  way,"  and  he 
pushed  me  into  an  elevator  with  a  buttony  boy 
who  whisked  me  through  a  hallway  and  into  a 
room  where  many  men  were  working  at  desks. 
One  of  these  took  charge  of  me,  and  the  next 
moment  I  was  in  Mr.  Cresson's  office. 

He  was  alone,  and  stood  up  at  once  when  he 
saw  me.  He  leaned  down  a  little  as  we  shook 
hands,  and  I  thought  perhaps  he  was  expecting 

M  199 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

something  more  than  that.  At  any  rate,  I  stood 
on  tiptoe  and  kissed  him,  and  he  looked  pleased. 

"My  dear,"  he  began,  as  we  sat  down,  "I 
wish  I  had  some  good  news  for  you,  but  I 
haven't." 

"Well,"  I  said,  "your  letter  'most  broke  my 
heart;  but  after  I  had  thought  about  it,  I  felt  you 
were  all  mistaken.  Then  I  found  these,  and  I 
was  sure  of  it." 

Mr.  Cresson  took  the  little  package  of  maps,  and 
looked  them  over  very  carefully  while  I  watched 
for  a  sign  of  hope.  He  spread  them  out  on  his 
desk,  going  over  each  line  apparently  with  the 
utmost  attention,  nodding  his  head  now  and  then 
in  a  funny,  jerky  way.  Once  he  grunted,  "No 
dates!"  and  my  heart  jumped;  but  his  face  was 
set  and  grim,  and  when  at  last  he  folded  them 
up  I  almost  feared  to  ask  him  what  he  thought. 

"Where  did  you  find  these  ?"  he  questioned. 

"In  a  place  that  only  great-grandfather  and  I 
knew.  It's  a  Fales  secret,"  I  replied. 

"There  is  nothing  else?" 

"No,  I  looked;  but  that  was  all." 

We  were  silent  again  for  a  moment  or  two,  and 
then  I  couldn't  stand  it  any  more. 

"Don't   you    think,    Mr.    Cresson,"    I    began, 

"that  these  papers  prove  that  great-grandfather 

meant    to    improve    the    White    Marsh    himself? 

Why,  everything  is  there!     Just  where  the  houses 

200 


I    GIVE    UP    HOPE 

were  to  go,  and  the  lanes  and  roads  and — and 
everything.  Surely  that  shows." 

"My  dear  John  Fales,"  said  Mr.  Cresson,  very 
gently,  "It  wouldn't  be  wise  nor  kind  of  me  to 
give  you  any  encouragement  unless  I  saw  some 
reason  for  it.  These  papers  simply  show  that  your 
great-grandfather  was  a  careful,  painstaking  man 
of  affairs.  It  is  perfectly  understandable  that  he 
wished  to  know  as  accurately  as  possible  what  the 
cost  of  doing  the  thing  himself  would  be,  so  he 
had  these  plans  and  estimates  made.  In  that 
way,  you  see,  he  could  determine  whether  or  not, 
all  things  considered,  it  would  pay  him  to  accept 
the  offer  of  the  White  Marsh  Company.  These 
papers  only  prove  how  far-sighted  and  prudent  a 
gentleman  Mr.  Fales  was — one  who  didn't  guess 
at  things,  but  was  willing  to  go  to  some  trouble 
and  expense  to  obtain  definite  facts.  I  wish  there 
were  more  like  him  in  this  slipshod  world.  But, 
by-the-way,  have  you  shown  these  to  any  one  else  ?" 

"No,"  I  answered,  disconsolately.  "I  did  in- 
tend to  let  Mr.  Sloan  see  them,  but  I  decided  not 
to.  I  don't  think  I  like  Mr.  Sloan  any  more." 

"Why  not?"  Mr.  Cresson  asked,  and  then  I 
told  him  about  the  quarrel  between  the  little  pale 
man  and  Mr.  Sloan. 

"They  were  very  angry  indeed,"  I  concluded, 
"and  I  was  frightened  for  a  minute  or  two;  but 
I  can't  make  out  what  Fales  had  to  do  with  it. 
201 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

One  of  the  men  said,  quite  plainly:  'Not  for  the 
whole  of  Fales!'" 

Mr.  Cresson  glanced  at  me  so  sharply  that  I 
was  startled. 

"Are  you  sure  he  said  Tales'?  You  might 
have  been  mistaken,  you  know." 

"No,  I'm  quite  sure,"  I  answered. 

Mr.  Cresson  looked  down  at  the  floor  thought- 
fully, then  he  reached  for  the  telephone. 

"I  want  to  speak  to  Mr.  Hastings,"  he  called, 
and  a  moment  later  I  heard  this  much  of  the 
conversation : 

"Yes,  yes,  that  you,  Hastings  ?  Ah,  did  that 
White  Marsh  man  come  with  those  deeds  ?  .  .  . 
No.  .  .  .  Humph!  .  .  .  Humph!  .  .  .  No  possi- 
bility of  error,  you  think?  .  .  .  Humph!  .  .  . 
Humph !  .  .  .  Well,  don't  close  it  without  notifying 
me.  That's  positive !  Good-bye.  .  .  .  Yes.  .  .  . 
Humph !  .  .  .  Humph !  .  .  .  Don't  agree  with  you 
at  all.  ...  No.  ...  Not  at  all.  .  .  .Good-bye," 
and  Mr.  Cresson  hung  up  the  receiver. 

"John  Fales."  he  said,  turning  to  me,  "there 
is  no  use  in  raising  false  hopes  about  this.  I  am 
as  sorry  as  I  can  be,  but — well,  my  dear,  you'll 
have  to  be  a  brave  girl  and  face  it  like — like  a 
Fales!  And  the  worst  of  it  is  that  your  great- 
grandfather must  have  had  you  in  mind  when  he 
sold  that  property.  It  is  evident,  I  think,  that  he 
wanted  to  save  you  the  bother  and  trouble  of  it." 

202 


I    GIVE    UP    HOPE 

"That  is  what  Mr.  Sloan  said,"  I  replied; 
"but,  Mr.  Cresson,"  I  went  on,  as  earnestly  as  I 
knew  how,  "don't  you  see  that  great-grandfather 
wouldn't  have  done  that,  even  for  me  ?  Why,  I 
don't  believe  he'd  have  sold  it  if  he'd  been  as 
poor  as  poor.  Nobody  seems  to  understand  that 
he  just  couldn't  sell  a  part  of  Fales!" 

"Yes,  I  do  understand  that,"  Mr.  Cresson 
answered,  in  his  most  kindly  way,  "and  you  are 
quite  right  in  believing  as  you  do,  only,  my  dear, 
you  see  the  White  Marsh  wasn't  really  a  part  of 
Fales.  It  is  a  piece  of  the  old  Stratton  Home- 
stead, and  Mr.  Fales,  seeing  the  time  coming 
when  a  road  would  be  built  there,  bought  it  purely 
as  a  speculation.  There  was  no  sentiment  about 
White  Marsh;  it  never  was  a  part  of  Fales  at 
all." 

That  was  the  end  of  the  argument  for  me. 
There  was  nothing  more  to  say.  My  only  desire 
was  to  go  home  as  quickly  as  possible,  and  I 
struggled  hard  to  keep  back  the  tears. 

Mr.  Cresson  was  as  nice  as  he  could  be,  and 
tried  his  best  to  be  comforting.  He  went  with  me 
to  the  elevator,  and  we  shook  hands  silently. 

"I  am  only  a  girl,  after  all,"  I  thought,  while 
I  walked  out  of  the  building,  scarcely  knowing 
what  I  was  doing. 

As  I  went  down  the  steps  to  meet  William  in 
the  buckboard  I  suddenly  became  aware  of  some 
203 


LITTLE    MISS    PALES 

one  standing  in  front  of  me,  holding  his  hat  in 
his  hand. 

"  Excuse  me ! "  he  said,  in  a  thin,  whining  voice. 
"This  is  Miss  Fales,  isn't  it?" 

I  looked  up  and  faced  the  little  man  I  had  seen 
in  Mr.  Sloan's  office. 


XXXI 

¥R.    CRESSON   CAN   BE   CRUSTY 

COR  a  moment  I  was  startled  by  the  man's 
*  speaking  to  me,  remembering  at  once  Mr. 
Sloan's  suggestion  that  he  was  crazy.  But  he 
looked  quite  harmless  and  small;  besides,  there  was 
William,  ready  to  come  to  me  the  instant  I  called. 

"Yes,  I  am  Miss  Fales,"  I  said. 

"My  name's  Brady,  miss,  Thomas  Brady,"  he 
went  on — "and  maybe  you  remember  my  boy 
Jimmy?"  Seeing  that  I  was  still  puzzled,  he 
explained  further.  "The  boy  you  saved  from 
drowning,  out  in  Germantown,  about  Thanks- 
giving-time." 

"Oh,  of  course!"  I  exclaimed,  recollecting 
everything.  "  How  is  Jimmy  ?" 

"He's  alive  and  well,  thanks  to  you,  Miss  Fales," 
said  Mr.  Brady,  "and  I  want  you  to  know  I'm 
more  than  grateful  for  what  you  did.  It  would 
have  killed  me  if  anything  had  happened  to  my 
boy." 

"Oh,  that's  all  right!"  I  said,  beginning  to 
feel  embarrassed. 

205 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

"  No,  it's  not,  miss,"  he  insisted,  doggedly.  "  It's 
far  from  all  right,  but  I'll  make  it  right  if  I  have 
to  go  to  jail  for  it!" 

He  fumbled  in  the  pocket  of  his  coat,  and 
brought  out  two  folded  documents  which  I  took 
mechanically  as  he  handed  them  to  me. 

"Give  those  to  somebody  you  can  trust,  miss," 
he  said,  earnestly.  "Not  Sloan;  anybody  but 
him,  mind  that.  He's  been  trying  to  rob  you, 
and — and — I've  been  helping  him." 

"I  don't  understand,"  I  returned,  beginning 
to  wonder  again  if  Mr.  Sloan  had  not  told  the 
truth  when  he  said  the  man  was  crazy.  "No 
one  has  been  robbing  me." 

"Indeed  they  have  been  trying  to,  Miss  Fales, 
and  nothing  could  have  stopped  them.  It's  the 
White  Marsh  property  they're  after." 

"White  Marsh — "  I  began,  and  then,  sud- 
denly realizing  something  of  what  he  meant,  I 
caught  him  by  the  arm. 

"Come,"  I  cried — "come  with  me  to  Mr. 
Cresson  at  once!" 

He  held  back  a  moment,  evidently  not  wanting 
to  go,  but  finally,  with  a  shake  of  his  head,  he 
followed  me  into  the  big  building. 

After  some  little  delay  I  found  myself  again  in 
the  president's  office. 

"Now,  tell  Mr.  Cresson  all  about  it,"  I  said 
to  Mr.  Brady. 

206 


MR.   CRESSON    CAN    BE    CRUSTY 

"The  whole  story  is  there  in  your  hand,  Miss 
Fales,"  he  answered. 

I  gave  the  papers  to  Mr.  Cresson,  who  took  them 
without  a  word. 

As  he  glanced  through  them  his  face  became  so 
grim  and  hard  that  then,  for  the  first  time  since  I 
had  known  him,  I  could  appreciate  why  some 
people  called  him  "Crusty  Cresson." 

When  he  looked  up  at  Mr.  Brady  his  eyes  seemed 
to  flash  fire. 

"You  scoundrel!"  he  said,  and  I  fairly  jumped 
in  my  chair.  "Who  else  is  there  in  it  ?"  he  added. 

"Sloan,"  answered  Mr.  Brady,  hanging  his 
head. 

"Of  course,  I  know  that!  But  who  else?" 
Mr.  Cresson  demanded. 

"That's  enough,  isn't  it?"  said  Mr.  Brady. 

"Who  else,  I  asked!"  thundered  Mr.  Cresson. 

"Perkins,  who  represented  the  White  Marsh 
Company,"  was  the  answer. 

"Is  that  all?"  Mr.  Cresson  persisted. 

"That's  all." 

"But  please  tell  me  what  it  means  ?"  I  cried. 

Mr.  Cresson  arose  to  his  feet,  and  stood  beside 
me  with  one  hand  on  my  shoulder. 

"It  means,  my  dear,  that  these  miserable 
scoundrels  were  trying  to  rob  you  of  the  White 
Marsh  property,  and  they  very  nearly  succeeded." 

"Then  it's  still  mine,  and — and— 
207 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

"  Yes,  it's  still  yours,  and  we  were  all  mistaken," 
Mr.  Cresson  said,  smiling  down  at  me;  for,  al- 
though I  had  tears  in  my  eyes,  they  were  tears  of 
joy. 

"Then  everything  can  be  exactly  as  we  planned, 
and — oh,  Mr.  Cresson,  I'm  so  happy,  so  happy!" 
And,  seizing  his  hands,  I  began  dancing  up  and 
down.  It  seemed  to  me  that  he  was  almost  as 
pleased  as  I  was,  for  he  danced  a  little,  too,  his 
face  beaming  with  smiles.  I  think,  perhaps,  if 
some  of  the  directors  of  the  P.  Q.  R.  had  come  in 
just  then  they  would  have  been  very  much  sur- 
prised to  see  their  president  skipping  around  the 
room  with  a  little  girl. 

However,  a  moment  later  he  remembered  Mr. 
Brady,  and  he  checked  himself  suddenly,  his  face 
becoming  quite  stern  again. 

"And  now  we'll  settle  with  you!"  he  began, 
harshly,  seating  himself  at  his  desk.  "I  suppose 
you  know  what  this  means  ? " 

"Yes,"  said  Brady,  "I  do." 

"  But  you  thought  you'd  get  off  by  confessing, 
eh?" 

"No,  sir,"  he  answered,  a  little  defiantly.  "It 
wasn't  that  at  all.  She  saved  my  boy's  life,  sir. 
I  couldn't  rob  her  after  that." 

"So  that  was  it,"  said  Mr.  Cresson,  musingly. 
"I  was  wondering.  And  Sloan  was  at  the  bottom 
of  it?" 

208 


MR.   CRESSON    CAN    BE    CRUSTY 

"Yes,  sir,"  answered  Mr.  Brady.  "I  suppose 
there's  no  use  saying  it,  but  it's  true  that  I  didn't 
want  to  go  into  this  at  all,  though  he  offered  me 
ten  thousand  dollars.  But  Sloan  forced  me  be- 
cause he  knows  something  I  had  hoped  was  for- 
gotten, and  threatened  to  put  me  in  jail  if  I  didn't 
do  what  he  wanted.  I've  been  trying  to  live  honest, 
sir,  for  the  sake  of  the  boy.  You  don't  believe 
me,  of  course,  but  that's  how  it  was,  anyway.  I 
was  scared  into  it  till  I  found  out  who  we  were 
robbing,  then  I  quit.  Sloan's  been  threatening 
everything,  trying  to  get  those  deeds  out  of  me 
for  the  last  month,  because  he  couldn't  close  the 
deal  without  them;  but  he  said  he'd  get  some  one 
else  to  forge  them,  so  I  knew  the  only  way  to  keep 
the  place  for  Miss  Fales  was  to  confess  what  was 
going  on.  She  saved  my  boy,  risking  her  own 
life  to  do  it.  There's  nothing  I  wouldn't  be  glad 
to  do  for  her." 

Mr.  Brady  seemed  so  very  earnest  that  I  was  sure 
he  was  telling  the  truth,  but  I  didn't  quite  under- 
stand what  it  was  all  about,  so  I  asked  Mr.  Cresson 
to  explain. 

"It's  very  simple,  my  dear,"  he  began.  "You 
see,  this  precious  lawyer  of  yours,  Sloan,  has  all 
your  great  -  grandfather's  papers  and  account- 
books  and  legal  documents  of  all  kinds  in  his 
possession.  He  saw  at  once  that  the  White 
Marsh  would  become  very  valuable  some  day 
209 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

soon,  and  the  temptation  to  get  it  himself  was  too 
great  for  him  to  withstand.  So,  having  all  the 
documents,  he  only  needed  to  forge  your  great- 
grandfather's name  to  a  deed  of  sale.  And  that 
was  where  Brady's  work  came  in.  With  the 
original  deed  it  was  easy  enough,  especially  as 
White  Marsh  was  never  a  part  of  Fales." 

"But  who  paid  the  money  for  it  ?"  I  asked. 

"There  wasn't  any  money  paid,  my  dear," 
Mr.  Cresson  continued.  "Sloan  knew  that  every 
step  in  the  transaction  would  be  looked  into  by 
the  railroad  company  to  establish  the  title,  so  he 
invented  a  White  Marsh  Company  and  had 
Brady  forge  some  other  papers  that  seemed  to 
show  that  your  great-grandfather  had  received  a 
large  sum  of  money  for  the  property  from  this 
company.  Then,  to  account  for  that  money  he 
made  it  appear  as  a  part  of  the  residuary  that 
your  Cousin  Jackie  inherited.  That  was  the  way 
of  it,  eh,  Brady?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  was  the  answer. 

"It  is  very  easy,  John  Fales,"  Mr.  Cresson  went 
on,  "for  an  unscrupulous  lawyer  who  has  posses- 
sion of  all  the  papers  of  an  estate  like  Fales  to 
be  dishonest  without  a  very  great  risk  of  being 
found  out,  especially  when  he  has  only  women  to 
deal  with.  I  confess  I  never  suspected  him  till  you 
came  in  to-day  with  those  maps,  and  told  me  what 
you  had  overheard;  but,  although  I  had  made 
210 


MR.   CRESSON    CAN    BE    CRUSTY 

up  my  mind  to  go  into  the  matter  thoroughly  once 
more,  I  didn't  say  a  word  to  you  of  this  because, 
as  I  said,  there  was  no  use  of  raising  false  hopes. 
Sloan  has  a  good  record,  but  he  must  have  a  soft 
spot  somewhere — and  now  he  will  be  obliged  to 
pay  for  it." 

"What  will  happen  to  him  ?"  I  asked. 

"He'll  go  to  jail,  with  Brady  here  and  the  man 
Perkins,  who  represented  Sloan  in  this  White 
Marsh  Company,  for,  of  course,  Sloan  couldn't 
appear  in  that  himself.  It  would  have  caused 
suspicion  at  once." 

"Oh,  but  I  can't  have  anything  happen  to 
Mr.  Brady!"  I  cried.  "Why,  if  it  hadn't  been 
for  him  I  would  have  lost  everything!" 

"Don't  be  childish,  John  Fales,"  said  Mr. 
Cresson,  quite  severely.  "These  men  are  scoun- 
drels, and  should  be  punished  as  they  de- 
serve." 

"Not  Mr.  Brady!"  I  said  positively.  "Think 
of  poor  little  Jimmy  and  his  sister  and  Mrs.  Brady! 
I  couldn't  allow  it." 

"You  can't  get  Sloan  without  Brady,"  returned 
Mr.  Cresson. 

"Then  we'll  let  him  go  too,"  I  said.  "  Besides, 
I'm  too  happy  to  want  anybody  to  be  miserable. 
Please,  Mr.  Cresson,  let  them  go!" 

The  room  was  silent  for  the  next  few  moments, 
and  I  think  Mr.  Brady  must  have  been  very  anxious 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

as  he  waited  to  learn  what  would  be  done.  At  last 
Mr.  Cresson  spoke  deliberately: 

"It  is  a  foolish  and  quixotic  performance!  How- 
ever, soft-hearted  young  ladies  must  have  their 
way,  I  suppose.  Brady,  give  me  your  address 
and  then  clear  out!" 

Mr.  Brady  gave  it,  but  just  as  he  started  to 
leave  he  turned  to  me. 

"I  can't  tell  you,  Miss  Fales,  how  grateful  I 
am,"  he  said,  with  much  emotion.  "But  I'll  not 
go  wrong  again,  that  I'll  promise  you!" 

"Hold  on  a  minute!"  Mr.  Cresson  called,  as 
the  other  started  for  the  door.  "Suppose  you 
meet  me  at  Sloan's  office,  say,  in  half  an  hour.  I 
want  to  settle  with  that  young  man  while  I'm  in 
the  humor  for  it.  He's  had  charge  of  the  Fales 
estate  long  enough,  I  guess." 

"I'll  be  there,  sir,"  Brady  said,  and  went  out 


XXXII 

HURRY!  HURRY!  HURRY! 

"I   DON'T    think    he's   so   very   bad,   do  you, 

1   Mr.  Cresson?"  I  asked,  as  the  door  closed. 

"My  dear,"  he  answered,  thoughtfully,  "none 
of  these  fellows  are  bad  all  through.  It's  just  a 
weak  spot  somewhere.  No  one  can  be  very  wrong 
who  loves  his  child  as  that  man  does;  but  a  tempta- 
tion comes  along,  and  they  yield  to  it.  Sloan  is 
worse  than  Brady,  because  he  has  had  more 
opportunity  in  the  world;  and  I  mean  to  scare 
him  into  being  honest  hereafter,  if  I  can.  Maybe 
you  were  wise  to  let  them  go.  There's  a  chance 
that  they  will  have  learned  a  lesson  that  will  last 
the  rest  of  their  lives.  1  hope  so;  yes,  I  hope  so 
sincerely." 

"Well,  I  hope  so  too,"  I  said,  joyfully.  "Be- 
cause I'm  so  happy  I  want  everybody  to  be  happy, 
and  now  we  can  have  the  party,  and  of  course  you 
are  coming,  you  know!" 

Mr.  Cresson  talked  over  the  plans  with  me.  He 
was  quite  enthusiastic,  and  made  splendid  sug- 
gestions, promising  to  have  a  check  for  mother  as  a 
213 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

"substantial  surprise/'  he  called  it.  It  seemed 
that  now  everything  could  be  arranged  very  quickly 
because  all  the  negotiations  that  had  been  carried 
on  with  the  White  Marsh  Company  could  be  used 
for  me.  Mr.  Cresson  said  he  would  see  Mr. 
Seymore  and  invite  him  to  Fales  in  my  name, 
because  there  was  so  little  time  to  write,  and  he 
laughed  when  he  learned  that  his  own  engineer 
had  suggested  my  getting  the  station. 

"See  here,  John  Fales,"  he  said,  chuckling, 
"what  designs  have  you  on  this  poor  little  P.  Q.  R. 
Railroad  ?  You  certainly  have  captured  the  presi- 
dent, and  now  I  find  you  have  secured  one  of  our 
best  engineers  as  well.  Good  man,  Seymore," 
he  went  on  seriously.  "He  doesn't  know  it,  but 
I've  had  my  eye  on  him,  and  I  think  promotion 
will  do  him  good.  What  do  you  think  ?" 

"I'm  sure  of  it,"  I  said;  "he's  such  a  good 
fellow,  and  so  far-sighted." 

Mr.  Cresson  laughed  and  took  out  his  watch. 

"Goodness  me,  child!"  he  exclaimed,  "it's 
half-past  three.  I  must  be  off  to  see  that  Sloan 
fellow,  and  you  must  be  getting  home  before  it  is 
too  dark.  Short  days,  you  know." 

"Oh,  it  can't  be  that  late!"  I  cried,  in  dismay. 
"Why,  mother  will  be  home  before  I  am,  and 
that  will  be  an  end  to  the  surprise.  She  doesn't 
know  I'm  in  town,  and  I  would  have  to  tell  her 
all  about  it  if  she  asked  me." 
214 


HURRY!  HURRY!  HURRY! 

"Dear  me,  dear  me,  that's  too  bad!"  said  Mr. 
Cresson.  "Now  it  would  be  a  shame  not  to  have 
that  surprise  after  all  our  planning!  Humph! 
How  did  you  get  to  town  ? " 

"William  drove  me  in,  in  the  buckboard,"  I  re- 
plied. "But  Dido's  too  tired  to  race  back,  and 
she's  much  slower  than  the  pair,  anyway.  Oh, 
isn't  it  too  bad!" 

"Hold  on,  don't  give  up  yet!"  cried  Mr.  Cresson, 
bustling  into  his  coat.  "Come  along  with  me! 
Quick  now!  I'll  send  you  out  in  the  automobile. 
That  ought  to  beat  the  carriage." 

"But  what  will  you  do?"  I  asked,  anxiously. 

"Don't  you  bother  about  me,"  he  answered,  as 
we  plumped  down  in  the  elevator.  "What's  a 
mere  president  to  a  surprise-party?  Come  along ! " 

"  But  William  ? "  I  gasped,  as  we  reached  the  street. 

"I'll  see  to  William.  Now  you  get  in  here." 
And  Mr.  Cresson  popped  me  into  the  big  bottle- 
green  machine. 

"Dawson,"  he  said  to  the  chauffeur,  "do  you 
know  the  Fales  place  in  Germantown  ?" 

"Yes,  sir,"  said  Dawson. 

"Then  you  take  this  young  lady  out  there  just 
as  quickly  as  you  know  how.  Don't  stop  to  be 
arrested.  Inquire  about  that  afterward.  Good- 
bye, John  Fales.  See  you  Christmas  Day.  Now 
you're  off!"  Mr.  Cresson  waved  his  hand,  and, 
with  a  snort,  we  started. 

is  215 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

It  wasn't  until  we  were  well  out  of  the  city  that 
Dawson  showed  me  what  the  automobile  could 
do;  for,  once  free  from  the  carts  and  trolley-cars, 
we  simply  flew  along.  I  opened  one  of  the  win- 
dows in  front,  and,  although  my  head  was  nearly 
blown  off,  I  managed  to  tell  him  why  I  was  in  such 
a  hurry  and  he  seemed  very  much  interested,  so 
that  we  both  began  to  look  anxiously  for  Thomas 
and  the  pair. 

The  nearer  we  got  to  Germantown  the  more 
nervous  I  became.  Of  course,  I  was  happy — 
much  too  happy  to  be  very  miserable,  even  if 
mother  did  find  out  and  spoil  the  surprise-party; 
but  all  the  same  I  would  have  been  disappointed. 
On  we  went,  and  still  no  sign  of  the  carriage. 

We  were  in  Germantown,  racing  along  Main 
Street,  when  Dawson  asked,  for  the  twentieth 
time:  "Do  you  see  anything  of  it,  miss  ?"  There 
was  a  carriage  far  ahead,  and  I  strained  my  eyes. 
At  last  I  made  out  the  funny  bell-shaped  hat  that 
Thomas  wears,  and  I  knew  it  was  our  carriage. 

"That's  it  ahead  of  us!"  I  shouted.  "Oh, 
hurry!  hurry!  they're  'most  there  now!" 

I  didn't  think  we  could  go  any  faster,  but  Daw- 
son  moved  a  lever  that  clicked,  and  the  machine 
seemed  to  leap  under  us.  So  fast  did  we  go  that 
we  were  nearly  beside  the  carriage  before  I  knew 
it,  and  had  just  time  to  crouch  down  so  that  they 
wouldn't  see  me  as  we  sped  past. 
216 


HURRY!  HURRY!  HURRY! 

A  moment  later  we  were  tearing  up  the  drive  at 
Fales.  I  leaped  out,  crying  to  Dawson: 

"Quick,  go  out  the  back  way,  so  they  won't 
see  you!  They're  almost  here!  Much  obliged!" 
But  he  was  gone,  and  I  had  to  wait  to  thank  him 
until  a  later  day. 

I  rushed  up-stairs,  threw  off  my  hat  and  coat, 
and  tore  down  again  just  as  the  carriage  came  up 
to  the  house. 

A  moment  later  my  arms  were  about  mother 
welcoming  her  home. 

"Didn't  you  think  that  automobile  came  in 
here  ?"  mother  asked  Thomas. 

"I  couldn't  be  sure,  madam,"  he  answered, 
touching  his  hat,  "it  was  goin'  that  fast.  But 
it  looked  like  it.  The  law  ought  to  catch  those 
reckless  hobgoblins  of  chauffeurs,  that  it  should, 
madam!" 

"What  is  it?"  I  asked,  trying  to  appear  very 
innocent. 

"An  automobile,  dearie,  that  passed  us  on  the 
road  almost  at  the  entrance,"  mother  answered, 
as  I  helped  her  off  with  her  coat.  "I  never  saw 
anything  go  so  fast!  Really,  something  should  be 
done  about  this  terribly  dangerous  speeding.  As 
it  went  tearing  past  us  I  couldn't  help  feeling 
thankful  that  no  one  belonging  to  me  was  inside 
of  it." 


XXXIII 

I    KEEP   MY   OWN 

IT  is  funny  to  think  how  long  that  particular 
Christmas  Day  was,  especially  as  it  is  one  of  the 
shortest  in  the  year  and  usually  goes  very  quickly. 
But  you  will  understand,  of  course,  why  it  seemed 
so.  I  just  couldn't  wait  for  the  evening  to  come, 
and  was  so  excited  that  even  my  own  presents  were 
neglected  for  the  time  being,  although  they  were 
fine  and  exactly  what  I  wanted. 

Jackie  sent  me  a  camera,  because  he  knew  I  was 
anxious  to  take  pictures  of  Fales;  mother's  present 
was  a  real  lace  collar;  Mr.  Cresson  found  the 
loveliest  old  desk-set  in  Queen  Anne  silver  for  me; 
Mr.  Seymore  gave  me  a  box  of  candy;  Cousin 
Sommerville  a  number  of  books,  and  Cousin  Maria 
remembered  me  with  a  superb  copper  belt-buckle 
that  was  really  too  fine  for  a  child.  I  might  just 
as  well  say  right  here  that  Cousin  Maria  and  I 
have  become  friends.  Now  that  she  is  reconciled 
to  my  having  Fales,  she  really  can  be  very  nice 
indeed,  and  is  planning  to  have  me  go  to  New- 
port to  visit  her.  Also,  you  will  be  surprised  to 
218 


I    KEEP    MY    OWN 

learn  that  instead  of  objecting  to  Jackie's  coming 
to  Fales  as  she  did  once,  she  keeps  urging  him  to 
go  whenever  he  has  a  holiday  from  school,  although 
I  don't  think  he  needs  urging. 

But  to  get  back  to  the  Christmas  presents. 

Of  course,  there  were  lots  of  little  things  from 
the  girls  at  school,  nor  did  mother's  two  sisters 
in  the  South  forget  me,  and  then  there  was  the 
hundred  dollars  from  the  great-aunts.  Alto- 
gether, everybody  was  very  good  to  me,  and  you 
mustn't  think  I  was  ungrateful  because  I  couldn't 
keep  my  mind  on  anything  but  the  surprise  that 
was  coming  for  mother. 

The  great-aunts  were  spending  Christmas  with 
us,  and  they  and  mother  watched  me  dancing  from 
room  to  room  getting  things  ready,  and  shook 
their  heads  wondering  what  it  was  all  about. 
We  trimmed  the  house  with  long  ropes  of  green 
and  huge  boughs  of  hemlock  that  Larkin  and  his 
man  had  brought  for  us,  and  placed  little  orange- 
trees  in  front  of  certain  panels  in  the  hall.  The 
big  tree  we  set  up  in  one  end  of  the  gallery,  so  that 
it  was  the  first  thing  you  saw  on  coming  in,  and, 
being  all  trimmed  in  white,  it  shone  like  a  jewel. 

William  was  in  the  secret,  and  it  was  al- 
most pathetic  to  watch  him.  He  worked  like 
ten  men,  trotting  about  all  day  long  dusting  places 
where  there  wasn't  a  grain  of  dust,  and  polishing 
metal  that  already  glistened  like  a  mirror. 
219 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

He  confided  to  me  during  the  morning  that  he 
had  arranged  to  have  Larkin's  helper  come  up  to 
watch  the  tree  after  it  was  lighted. 

"Trees  is  in  his  line  of  work,  Miss  John,"  he 
explained,  "and  he's  a  responsible  young  man  who 
knows  his  place.  I'll  give  him  plenty  of  candles, 
and  the  moment  one  of  'em  burns  out  he  can  pop 
on  another  one." 

"  But  his  clothes,  William  ?"  I  said,  remembering 
him  only  in  blue  overalls. 

"Don't  you  worry  about  that,  miss,"  William 
assured  me.  "Me  that  took  care  of  your  grand- 
father's things  ain't  likely  to  let  good  liveries  go  to 
rack  and  ruin,  and  we've  enough  for  all  we'll 
need  till  you're  a  young  lady  grown.  I'll  make  a 
decent-lookin'  footman  out  of  him  for  one  night, 
anyway." 

Even  the  longest  day  comes  to  an  end  at  last. 
Mother  and  I  were  dressed  by  eight  o'clock,  and 
I  ran  to  her  room  so  that  we  could  go  down  to- 
gether. We  stood  for  a  moment  before  the  glass 
to  be  sure  that  everything  was  on  straight,  and  I 
couldn't  help  seeing  how  different  we  were. 
Really,  she  is  the  prettiest  mother  a  girl  ever  had 
— tall,  very  slender,  with  blue  eyes,  and  hair  the 
color  of  our  mahogany  furniture  when  the  sun 
strikes  it.  And  I  stood  beside  her  a  big,  black 
girl  with  gray  eyes  that  looked  as  if  they  ought  to 
be  in  another  face. 

220 


I    KEEP   MY   OWN 

"Really  and  truly,  mother,"  I  said,  seriously, 
"are  you  quite  sure  I'm  your  child  ?" 

"What  a  funny  question,  dearie!"  mother  an- 
swered. 

"  But  I'm  so  big  and  black,  and  you  are  so  fair, 
and — and — oh,  so  lovely!" 

Mother  leaned  down  quickly  and  kissed  me. 

"You  are  a  Fales,  you  know,  dearie,"  she  said, 
softly,  "but  for  all  that  you  are  my  very  own  dear 
girl,  and  though  you  were  always  *  black'  you 
weren't  so  very  huge  when  I  first  saw  you.  Now 
we  must  go  down,"  and  she  kissed  me  again. 

Mr.  Cresson  was  the  first  of  our  guests  to  arrive, 
and  I  was  glad  of  this,  for  I  wanted  him  to  meet 
mother  and  have  a  chance  to  talk.  It  seemed  that 
he  knew  the  great-aunts,  and  they  were  in  such  a 
flutter  when  he  appeared  that  mother  thought  at 
first  his  coming  was  on  their  account.  Then  came 
Jackie  with  his  father  and  mother,  and  Mr.  Sey- 
more  with  Miss  Shippen,  to  whom  I  noticed  he  was 
most  attentive  all  the  evening,  and  presently  every 
one  was  there.  Each  had  something  nice  to  say 
about  the  house,  and  really  it  was  beautiful,  with 
a  huge  fire  crackling  on  the  hearth,  the  lights 
everywhere,  the  green  boughs  and  ropes  of  laurel 
making  queer  shadows  on  the  white  panelling,  the 
Christmas-tree  blazing  in  the  gallery,  and  the 
people  in  evening-dress  walking  about  the  hall 
below. 

221 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

No  one  was  more  content  than  William,  and  I 
caught  him  peeping  proudly  at  his  footman. 

"The  old  house  has  come  to  its  own  again,  Miss 
John,"  he  whispered  to  me  once.  "Oh,  it  does 
me  good  to  see  it!  And  do  you  mind  him,"  he 
went  on,  nodding  to  the  footman  standing  stiffly 
by  the  tree.  "He  looks  like  the  real  thing,  Miss 
John.  I'd  defy  any  one  to  tell  he  was  a  forgery  in 
a  manner  of  speakin'." 

I  didn't  forget  Mr.  Cresson's  grapes,  and  missing 
him  once  during  the  evening  I  spoke  to  William 
about  it. 

"He's  in  the  library,  Miss  John,"  William  said, 
looking  about  him  mysteriously;  and  then,  drop- 
ping his  voice  for  fear  of  being  overheard,  whis- 
pered: "He's  eatin'  grapes!" 

There,  sure  enough,  I  found  him. 

"I  just  couldn't  wait,  John  Fales,"  he  said. 
"They  looked  so  good  that  I  simply  had  to  find 
out  if  they  tasted  as  good  as  they  looked,  and  then, 
when  I  found  that  they  did,  I  couldn't  stop." 

I  told  him  about  William's  footman,  and  he 
laughed  heartily. 

"I  have  often  thought,"  he  said,  "that  a  collec- 
tion of  forgeries  would  be  most  interesting  and 
original.  Will  you  give  me  your  forged  footman 
to  start  it  with  ?" 

"  lo  conserve  It  mien,"  I  replied,  gayly,  as  I  ran  off. 

At  last  it  was  time  for  the  surprise.     Everybody 

222 


I    KEEP    MY    OWN 

knew  that  something  was  coming,  they  couldn't 
help  it;  and  I  had  asked  Mr.  Cresson  to  make  a 
little  speech  for  me  explaining  things,  so,  when 
he  and  I  went  up  into  the  gallery  together,  because 
he  wouldn't  go  alone,  all  the  people  stopped  talking 
and  looked  up  at  us  expectantly. 

In  a  moment  everything  was  quite  silent,  and  as 
I  glanced  down  on  the  faces  below  me  my  heart 
seemed  to  stop  beating.  Then  my  eyes  sought 
mother,  and  she  was  gazing  straight  up  at  me  with 
a  sweet  little  smile,  and  I  forgot  everything  but 
how  I  loved  her  and  the  joy  that  was  in  store  for 
her.  The  waiting  was  at  an  end,  the  anxiety  was 
over,  the  hour  I  had  been  anticipating  for  days 
had  come. 

"Friends,"  Mr.  Cresson  began — "friends  of  the 
house  of  Fales,  I  have  a  very  pleasant  message  for 
you  to-night.  The  little  lady  whose  guests  we  are 
has  had  more  troubles  and  responsibilities  than 
usually  fall  to  one  of  her  years.  As  you  know, 
she  decided  to  keep  the  home  of  her  ancestors  in 
spite  of  the  many  privations  that  resolution  neces- 
sitated, but  she  made  the  choice  herself,  and  I 
think  every  one  here  feels  that  it  was  the  right 
choice.  Therefore,  all  of  you  will  rejoice  with  her 
to  learn  that  the  way  is  to  be  made  easy." 

Mr.  Cresson  paused  for  a  moment,  and  I  saw 
mother's  eyes  grow  round  with  wonder  as  she 
looked  up  at  us. 

223 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

"I  shall  not  go  into  details,"  Mr.  Cresson  went 
on.  "Those  you  will  no  doubt  hear  later  at  first 
hand;  still  I  want  to  tell  you  that  there  were  heart- 
aches and  disappointments  that  might  have  shaken 
the  courage  of  the  bravest,  but  through  it  all  John 
Fales  never  lost  faith  in  the  traditions  of  her  house 
and  fought  to  'keep  her  own.'  You  may  be  sur- 
prised to  know  that  very  shortly  a  railroad  is  to 
run  through  the  most  distant  part  of  Fales,  and  its 
coming  renders  possible  other  important  projects 
that  will  make  the  estate  an  independent  principal- 
ity once  more.  I  must  add  that  to  make  these 
things  possible,  John  Fales,  with  the  aid  of  her 
Cousin  Jackie,  and,  I  am  credibly  informed,  at 
the  suggestion  of  a  soft-hearted  engineer  of  the 
road,  prevailed  upon  the  reluctant  president  to 
grant  certain  privileges  that  will  be  of  the  utmost 
value  to  Fales,  and  incidentally,  I  admit,  to  the 
railroad." 

Here  Cousin  Sommerville  started  everybody 
laughing  but  mother.  She  was  standing  very 
straight,  her  face  a  little  pale,  and  her  eyes  shining 
with  happiness. 

"And  now  a  final  word,"  Mr.  Cresson  concluded. 
"John  Fales  has  had  but  one  thought  in  all  this: 
to  make  her  mother's  responsibilities  easier;  and 
we,  who  have  aided  and  abetted  in  this  surprise- 
party  of  hers,  have  been  able  to  furnish  substan- 
tial evidence  of  this  change  in  her  affairs.  She 
224 


I    KEEP    MY    OWN 

has  a  present  for  her  mother  that  will  speak  for 
itself." 

That  was  the  end  of  the  speech,  and  my  turn  had 
come.  I  flew  down  to  mother,  and  gave  her  a 
little  silk-embroidered  bag,  crying,  as  I  hugged  and 
kissed  her,  "Open  it,  mother,  open  it!"  and  then, 
her  fingers  trembling  as  she  undid  the  strings,  she 
found  the  check. 

Mother  couldn't  speak  just  then,  but  her  arms 
about  me  and  the  tears  in  her  eyes  told  me  of  her 
gladness. 

What  a  happy,  happy  night  that  was!  Every- 
body was  so  pleased,  and  congratulated  us  again 
and  again  till  it  seemed  as  if  they  were  as  joyful 
as  mother  and  I,  which  made  everything  so 
much  nicer. 

Mr.  Cresson  was  the  last  of  our  guests  to  leave 
us,  and  mother  and  I  went  to  the  door  with  him. 

Of  course  we  both  tried  to  thank  him  for  all  he 
had  done,  but  he  wouldn't  hear  of  it. 

"Do  you  know,  Mrs.  Fales,"  he  said,  finally, 
"if  I  had  found  this  young  lady  under  different 
circumstances  I  should  have  made  an  effort  to 
adopt  her.  But  I  fear  she  is  too  important  a  per- 
son for  that  now,  so  I  want  you  to  persuade  her  to 
adopt  me.  I'll  be  anything  she  likes — great- 
grandson,  or  grandfather,  or,  perhaps  better  yet, 
guardian.  I  think  I  could  be  more  useful  in  the 
latter  capacity.  However,  whatever  happens  I  want 
225 


LITTLE    MISS    FALES 

an  excuse  to  feel  that  I  belong  a  little  to  Fales.  Do 
you  think  you  can  arrange  it  ?" 

"I'm  sure  I  can,"  said  mother,  holding  out  her 
hand. 

"And  what  do  you  think,  eh  ?"  he  asked,  looking 
down  at  me. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Cresson!"  I  cried,  putting  my  arms 
about  him  and  kissing  him,  "  please,  please  go  on 
taking  care  of  us.  Why,  if  it  hadn't  been  for  you 
everything  would  have  been  different.  But  now — 
now  I  shall  be  really  and  safely  and  always  John 
Fales  of  Fales!" 


THE    END 


000037134     4 


